The Collinsport Chronicles XVI: Hill of Beans
by Maryland Rose
Summary: Barnabas has been exiled to Parallel Time. Since he visited it last Parallel Time has changed, for the worse, and he may not be paranoid enough nor ruthless enought to suvive there.
1. Chapter 1

Barnabas has gotten in the news, and not in a good way. Maggie, who fears for her political career, asks Sabrina Jennings to "take care of him". Sabrina exiles him to Parallel Time, which he has not visited since 1970. He does not know what to expect there.

* * *

HILL OF BEANS

"I y a des pays/ou les gens au creux des lits/font des rêves/ici nous vois tu/nous l'on marche/nous l'on tue/nous on crêve"

Song of French Partisans during the German occupation

(There are countries where people can dream in their beds. Us, we just march, we jus kill, we just die...)

Chapter 1

This was not his room, Barnabas realized the moment he woke up.

Then he remembered what had happened the previous night.

Not only it was not his room, It wasn't his Universe, either.

He was back in Parallel Time. Forced into it by gunpoint by Sabrina, acting on Maggie's orders.

He rubbed his wrists, remembering how it had been done, then stopped guiltily. There were no marks on his skin. George had made sure that the handcuffs fit comfortably enough.

And he had given him some earth. He could manage with the local earth, as he had done the first time, but it was nice to have. It was the only link to the people he had left behind.

"Don't be melodramatic" he ordered himself "It is only for two or three months. Maybe earlier, depending on how well Maggie's campaign is doing.

Where was Buffy, by the way? Could she get here easily enough? A cemetery was not the kind of place where people went for a stroll.

He would use her a couple more times, at most. By then he's find others to take the pressure off her.

Buffy... he cold not shake the memory of how it had been with her last night. That was as good as it was going to get. No one here knew him, nor trusted him the way they did back home...

No one except Roxanne. She had been the first one who hadn't minded. The first time for him when he realized it did not have to be the way it had been until now...

But the name Roxanne brought other memories. Of the Roxanne of his own time, the one that he had helped to push into a servitude so terrible that she had chosen death as her only escape.

...If the same thing were to happen to this Roxanne...

Who else was there who might remember him? He had used many women that time. He had managed not to hurt them. But he had never achieved the intimacy, the friendship that now he realized he needed as much as the blood... No, those women might more likely fear him and be unpleasantly surprised when they found out that he had come back.

He thought of Will Loomis. Something clawed at him when he remembered how Will had died and couldn't have made it in time to rescue Will from Angelique. Yet, he should have at least tried. Even with the dawn at his heels, he should have tried... Will had died trying to protect him and he had not tried...

And because Will had died, so had Carolyn. She had been too distraught and drunk to watch her words. She said the wrong thing in front of Roger and he killed her.

And because Carolyn died, so did Elizabeth.

Will... Carolyn... Elizabeth... They would have been spared if he had reached Will in time.

Then there were steps coming towards him and he knew that Buffy was coming back. It had to be her. Not many people knew what the ring in the lion's mouth was for.

The door swung open and Buffy came in.

"Did you have any trouble coming over here?" he asked softly, trying not to frighten her.

"Not this time." She shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin, white line.

"Something wrong?"

She shook her head again, avoiding his eyes.

"Come here."

She obeyed him, still looking away.

It hurt him, to have her act so. He touched her lightly on the shoulder and saw her flinch.

"Are you afraid?"

She shook her head without conviction.

"I didn't hurt you so badly the last time I was here." he said solemnly "and I won't hurt you this time, either."

"You'll only use me" Buffy said, suddenly emboldened.

"Yes. It is true" he admitted "that cannot be avoided. But did I hurt you?"

"No."

"Did I mistreat you in any way?"

"No."

"I guess that is the best we can hope for. I will continue to use you, and others, because that is the way it is with me. But I will never abuse you. I can't offer anything else. But maybe later on I will be able to give you something for your trouble."

"You will use me again, now?"

"Today and tomorrow. By then I will find someone else to let you recover."

Buffy shrugged and submitted to his need. Barnabas, knowing how unwilling she was, took extra pains to be gentle with her.

When he could speak again, he asked her if she felt all right.

"Yes, I do." She still sounded unhappy about the arrangement.

Barnabas sighed and changed conversation. "You didn't tell me much of what's happening now."

"You were too busy talking about yourself last night." she answered " complaining of how you had been treated, waking up to find yourself bound and gagged, and about to sent away with as much ceremony as a package at the Post Office."

"I guess I got tiresome." Barnabas admitted, then added. "I am glad you feel well enough to try score points against me."

"You don't like it?

"I like it."

She smiled and then sat over the coffin, crossing her legs "Well, what is that you want to know?"

Barnabas was surprised to see her lose her inhibitions so fast, but did not comment on it. "How are Quentin, and Maggie, and Daniel? Is Roxanne still around?"

"Didn't you know?"

"Know what?"

"Daniel and Mrs. Collins are dead."

"Maggie dead? And Daniel? How?"

"Daniel was killed in the war. He was supposed to be married to Amy Collins, but did not survive the battle. Which made her brother turn sour on Quentin,... "The war?"

"We are at war with Mexico and the Southern countries, as well as Canada. The Canadians keep bombing us from a base in Cuba. In the last foray they bombed Washington, and burned the White House."

"And Maggie? How did she die?

"Mrs. Collins died shortly after she gave birth to Edmund. Roxanne Drew is Edmund's governess. And Quentin's mistress."

The news hit Barnabas hard...Maggie... he remembered her as she had been. She had endured so much since coming to Collinwood, had so many obstacles to surmount... And she barely had the chance to enjoy happiness...

...And Roxanne was now Quentin's mistress...

'You said something about Chris Collins."

"There is no love lost between him and Mr. Collins. He had the idea of Amy marrying Daniel and uniting thus the branches of the family. That is no longer possible. Amy found someone else, someone that Chris thinks is beneath him... And now Chris has the idea that he should be the Master of Collinwood, not Quentin... And he's using his wife to get it."

"Is he married?"

"To Victoria. Victoria Winters Collins."

"Vicky?"

"Yes, they call her that. She is Lieutenant Todd's lover., and Chris is the one pimping her."

"Lieutenant Todd? Lieutenant Phillip Todd?"

"Yes. Very well regarded in the Party."

"Democratic or Republican?"

"Uh?"

"Democratic or Republican Party?"

Before Buffy could answer, Quentin came in, a gun in one hand and a small cross in the other.

"You play the innocent very well," he said, coldly.

Barnabas had to turn around "I mean no harm" he said.

"Where do you really come from?" Quentin barked. "Don't bother to invent. I got the whole story out of Roxanne."

"If you know already, why?"

"Tell me what you told her."

"I come from a Parallel Universe."

"Specifically how?"

"There is this room in Collinwood. In the East Wing."

"Go on. Is that how Hoffman, my former housekeeper disappeared.?"

Barnabas hesitated.

"Tell me or I'll shoot. And these are silver bullets."

"Julia killed her and took her place. She was my Universe's counterpart of Hoffman."

"That's right." Quentin put his gun in his belt. "You are the real McCoy. You can turn around now."

Barnabas did.

"I guess I owe you an explanation. I had to be sure you were who you claimed to be."

"Who else could I be?"

"A plant from the secret police."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The secret police. The twentieth century contribution to the vocabulary of terror. That's what he had found in Parallel Time..

"I got curious about the way Buffy was acting today" Quentin said, as soon as they were in Collinwood, Barnabas having followed them as a bat as Quentin instructed. "So I followed her. Has anyone, except her seen you?"

"I don't think so."

"You better be sure. It is not safe for you to be seen. You know what you are here? A stranger with no papers, and no record of having arrived by any legitimate means of transpiration. You are a spy dropped from a plane, and subject to summary execution upon apprehension."

"But I am..."

"There is a big hunt going on for spies and saboteurs. Do not expect the secret police to have the brains or the inclination to tell the difference between a vampire and a garden variety saboteur. And while they might not know how to kill you, they will keep on trying until they get it right... Get it into your head that, whatever you did last time, nowadays you can get hanged for much less. You are not safe in the streets." he thought about it a bit. "We can keep you hidden. The Old House is supposed to be haunted, so you can move there. Don't, don't ever assume human shape in the streets. Do not feed on anyone you cannot trust, We will see about getting you supplied. And we will expect you to help us in certain things. I have to confer with my... associates about you. Better go to the Old House now and come back tomorrow."

"But.. but..." somehow his life was being arranged without anyone asking his opinion.

"We need each other, And we can make it a very profitable relationship for both of us. Go now to the Old House. As a bat. I ever get the suspicion that you assumed human shape outside I will shoot you." he smiled grimly. "You are not paranoid enough nor ruthless enough to survive here. I am. So you have to do as I say."

* * *

It was surprising what a few years of neglect could do to a house. The dust, the cobwebs, the scurrying mice... This Old House looked very much like this Old House did when Willie had just released him.

He stood by the abandoned fireplace, remembering his last stay. He could still see Carolyn, how she looked after she had learned that Will was dead.

He had warned her, but had been stupid about it. He should have made clear that there was a killer loose in Collinwood. Maybe two, and that he could not protect her when the sun was up. But she had believed that he was warning her about exposing him.

Maybe he should have attacked her and forced his will on her. Then she'd have been inside, away from danger.

There were so many things that he could have done differently. And only now he realized what they were. To late to be of any good...

There was a rhythmic sound behind him... like a typewriter.

He turned around and saw Will Loomis beating on the keys.

"Will."

Will smiled, a bit cynically "So you are back. I knew that sooner or late you'd return."

Barnabas stared at him, the emotions clogging his throat.

"I am sorry, Will."

"For what?" Will kept typing.

"You jumped for my sake."

"I jumped for my own sake. I couldn't let her wreck my life again. And that's what would have happened if I gave in to her. Whether it was actually you or something else, the moment I did what she wanted, it was back to the bottle for me. The bottle and the rest of it. You do remember how it was, don't you?"

"Yes. I do."

"That's what waited for me if I let her have power over me. I jumped because it was the only way I could be free of her."

"I... I see."

"And don't feel guilty about Carolyn, either. If someone is to blame, it is me. She was bitter, and made bad decisions driven by her bitterness. And she was bitter because I was a lousy husband."

"Still, I could have protected her."

"You could not. She didn't care to live anymore. Why else make that fuss about Angelique's murderer? She had no reason to like her, or avenge her murder. No, she was just trying to get herself killed."

"Still...:"

"If I had been a good husband to her, nothing would have happened."

Barnabas was not quite ready to accept it, but didn't protest anymore. "And how come you are still around?"

"The Powers That Be decreed that I am to remain earthbound until I manage to write one good book."

"And you have been writing since...?"

"Ever since" he pointed to a full wastebasket "As you see, I still have trouble."

"What are you writing about? Not me, I hope."

"No" he picked up a sheaf of papers "Read this and tell me what you think.

"It seems quite a lot." Barnabas put the papers under his arm.

"Read it now." Will urged him. "tell me what you think.

"I'd rather have some information first. I got some out of Buffy and Quentin, but I need more."

"If I tell you, will you read it?" Will insisted.

"Yes, I will"

"What is it that you want to know?"

"How come there is a secret police?"

"Do you remember that you found out that there had been nothing like the Nazis from your own Universe here? Well, seems that we got them now. Or a reasonable facsimile. It is quite grim out there."

"What about Quentin and Roxanne?"

"He's one of the leaders of the Underground. And Roxanne is his second-in-command. She's also the boy's governess."

"Is she... Quentin's mistress?"

"Yes... Her face is somewhat scarred by the fire, and Quentin does not mind it, so..."

Barnabas sighed. He knew that he had no right to feel hurt because of Quentin and Roxanne. He could hardly expect Roxanne to wait for him forever... Yet it still hurt.

"Anything else you want to know?"

"No.." Barnabas shook his head distractedly. He'd have other questions later, but not now.

"Will you read it now?"

"What?" his attention returned to Will's manuscript. "Oh, this..."

"Read it, please. And tell me what you think."

* * *

"Is it him, really?" Roxanne asked breathlessly, her pallor making the scars more prominent in her face.

"Yes, it is him. And we can use him."

"Has he agreed?"

"He has half-agreed. We can convince him further. And then, I have something that he might want."

"What is that?"

"You."

* * *

Barnabas put down the manuscript with a sigh.

"Well, what do you think?" Will asked impatiently.

"It is..." Barnabas made a gesture with his hand "...different..."

"You didn't like it."

"Not exactly." he lied "it just seems too contrived... it somehow does not ring true..."

"That shows how little you know." Will tore the pages from Barnabas' grasp and returned to his typewriter.

"Will..."

Will grumbled something undecipherable and kept typing.

* * *

"Are you coming to bed or not?" Chris asked Vicky as she was still busy in the bathroom. "Don't waste time making yourself pretty. I am not Todd to be taken by your...charms."

"Why not get rid of me and give me a divorce?"

"You know what the price for a divorce is."

"Collinwood." Vicky said "And if you get it, you'll want more, of course."

"No. Once I have Collinwood I'll let you go. You do not have enough class to be the mistress of that houses. Plainly my dear, you are cheap and have no breeding. But now you and that fellow Todd are useful to me."

"I could ask him, and he'd have you arrested and shot."

"No, dear, you won't. You don't want him to find out about your ancestry."

'You are a pig!"

"Yes. But smart. While you are dumb. You actually love him, even if he would have you executed the moment he found out what I know."

"He wouldn't!"

"Apart from being good in bed, what else can you say in his favor?"

"He's a real man. Not like you."

Chris smiled sardonically. "You _do _love him. I hope, for your sake, that you are careful with what you tell him."

"I might tell him."

"No, you don't want to find out what will happen to his love and concern once he finds out that you do not fit the Party standard of racial purity."

Vicky bit her lips, wishing that he could tell Chris that Phillip would love her, no matter what.

"Come to bed" he ordered her.

She looked away.

Chris grabbed her arm. "As your husband, I have certain rights"

"You...you pig"

He slapped her, then threw her on the bed. Vicky bit her lips and endured his lust in silence.

"Have sweet dreams of Lieutenant Todd" he said afterwards.

* * *

Edmund felt Roxanne's restlessness as he repeated his lessons.

"Why can't I go play now?" he pleaded "It is so nice outside..."

"You have math problems to do, first."

"Please? Pretty please with sugar on it?"

"No. You have to do them. You already know that your father does not like it when you skip classes."

"But just for today..."

Roxanne rubbed her temples. She could let Edmund go out to play. She could not concentrate, anyway. She couldn't help thinking of Barnabas, and she wanted to be left alone... She certainly didn't want to worry about Edmund's lessons.

Edmund felt that she was about to give in.

"Please, Roxanne." he insisted "I will work real hard tomorrow."

"All right." Roxanne capitulated "you can go out."

Alone, Roxanne touched her scarred face again. What would Barnabas say when he saw her like this? It would make a difference for him... And it had been ten years ago... And Quentin...

How could she tell him that she was Quentin's mistress? Could she expect him to love her, after that?

But she loved Quentin... and Barnabas had been for so long a dream and a memory, nothing more...

But now the dream had become real.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Barnabas felt uneasy coming into Collinwood. Quentin had plans for him, and he suspected what those plans might be. Espionage and sabotage. The fate that Megan had warned him against.

But it was in a good causes. After what Will had told him, he wanted in. And then, soon he would be back in his own time...

But Quentin...He still could not erase the memory of the other Quentin who had slapped him when he was helpless. It hadn't been so much the sting on his cheek as the raw hatred from Quentin that got him.

But this Quentin was different. There was a sense of purpose in him, a sense of self, something that the other Quentin, with all his cocky posturing, lacked.

"Just in time." Quentin said, getting up from his seat "Did you meet Dr. Blair before?" he gestured to the other man in the room.

Dr. Blair... Barnabas could not keep from wincing. It was Nicholas Blair, looking kindly and respectable...

He controlled himself. He should not think of them in terms of their counterparts. They had made different choices here. And if it was hard for him to imagine Nicholas on the side of the angels, Quentin would have the same trouble with Professor Stokes.

"No, I did not meet Dr. Blair before" he said, hoping that his unease didn't show.

"But I'll bet that you met someone like me in hour own Universe." Blair smiled widely.

No... the Nicholas he knew would not be so friendly and open.

"How much did Quentin tell you?"

"Everything" Quentin said.

"He had to" Blair explained "We had to make plans to keep your supplied."

"Supplied?"

"Making sure you don't go hungry."

"But I can manage for myself. And I can make sure I don't hurt anyone."

"We are concerned about the danger to you. The more you feed out, the bigger the chance that the secret police will catch you. And we prefer to keep you as a secret weapon."

"Since when have I been promoted to secret weapon? I don't recall applying for the job."

"That's all you can get. You don't have any other choices" Quentin crossed his arms. "Consider it a trade. We provide you with protection and food. In exchange you do certain things that for us would be difficult but that would be easy for you."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then my gun still has silver bullets."

"No one of us can afford to be neutral anymore" Blair said softly "you are not the only one in this quandary."

"We can't allow the secret police to get their hands on you." Quentin said "Believe me, if they do, you are going to wish I had shot you."

Barnabas paced. He wanted to go along with it, but it irritated him to be taken for granted. he did not like the idea of being drafted like this. He wanted some illusion of free will, damnit!

"Well, what is your answer?" Quentin insisted.

"I am game."

Quentin beamed "I knew you'd see it our way. Well, now Dr. Blair wants to be left alone with you. I am going to tell Roxanne that you said yes."

"Roxanne?" Barnabas did not know what to say to that.

"She remembers you fondly."

He was alone now, with Blair looking at him. He knew that look. He had seen it in Dr. Lang's face and sometimes in Julia's. Suddenly he was a specimen again, and Blair was itching for the chance to cut him open to see what was the matter with him...

"Well, strip" Blair ordered him.

"What?" he began to protest.

"I want to give you a complete physical. That will give me an idea how to plan around your...requirements.

Barnabas sighed and began unbuttoning.

* * *

"Well, doctor, will I ever be able to play the cello again?

Blair shook his head, amused. "That's an old joke." he said.

"Yes, it is." Barnabas acknowledged. "It was old in my time. But it wasn't a cello. It was a fiddle. Well, what is your prognosis?"

"If you were alive, you'd be a very sick man. You got the most screwed up system I have every seen. And how much of it is psychosomatic I'd rather not make a guess. I'd love to make an in-depth study of you.. If we win the war...if we are still around... if... if only all those ifs come together. But why dream? We have to take it one day at a time, here.

"For how long has this been going on? Barnabas began to get dressed gain. "The secret police, I mean?"

"Would you believe five years? In only five years we have learned just how fragile civilization is."

Barnabas nodded.

"It certainly makes hash of your certainties" Blair put his stethoscope away. "It's like having a steamroller run over you. Well, at least I am doing something about it."

Barnabas looked at him. He wasn't an old man, yet there were the marks of age in his face. Strain and disillusionment had put them there.

He would be in this world for only a short time, but Blair and the rest of them would have to stay here for the rest of their lives.

"Dr. Blair" he said unsteadily "where I come from it is different."

"So I understand."

"If you go to the East Wing, I can show you the room to go to my world."

Blair laughed softly, mirthlessly "Thanks. But this is my world. This is where I must remain."

There was a knock at the door and then Roxanne's voice came through. "Is he decent now?"

"Yes. he is." Blair said "you can come in."

Roxanne opened the door and stood by it, unwilling to let the doorknob go. She tried to have her hair cover her face so as to hide the scars.

"Roxanne" Barnabas wondered what he could say to her.

"You came back." and she almost added: for me.

"Yes. I did." He decided not to explain how it was that he had come back.

"Did you miss me?" her fingers dug into the doorknob. He would soon see the scars... he would turn away from her...he would pity her...

Blair coughed "If none of you needs me anymore" he said "I am leaving I have other patients to attend to."

They saw him go, still unable to move from their own respective positions.

"You... you seem still the same." she said "You have hardly changed."

He wondered what he could answer to her unasked question. Lie to her? Pretend that he did not see her scars? Taunt her with his knowledge of them?

Did he have to act as if ten years had not come between them?"

"You don't know what to say" she said sadly.

Barnabas nodded.

"You know about this." she pulled the hair off her face "I am not beautiful anymore. I am not young anymore."

"You are still Roxanne." he moved towards her.

"I don't need your pity" she said fiercely.

"It isn't pity" he protested, coming closer to her "I missed you. I would have come back earlier if I had found the way."

"I am not blaming you for that."

"Roxanne... I still remember that time...when you found out what I was? I hadn't wanted you to... to share of it." Tentatively he put his hands on her shoulders She didn't react to that. "But you... you let me... you weren't afraid... That time I could do it, for the first time, without feeling dirty inside."

"But that was ten years ago..."

"Yes" he agreed "You and Quentin are lovers, aren't you?"

He felt her become rigid.

"It has been ten years, Roxanne. You built a life without me, just I built a life without you. I am not blaming you for it. But don't you blame me for it, either. We just can't pick up where we left. Too many things and people happened in between"

"You have someone to love back where you live?"

"Yes. It is not like it was for us. But it is good enough."

"Just as Quentin is good enough for me." she said wistfully, then added with urgency. "Do you mind my face?"

"No, I don't. But why ask me? Quentin is now the man in your life. he is the one that matters now."

"He doesn't mind, either." Roxanne said in a whisper.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Lieutenant" Sergeant Haskell came into Lieutenant Todd's office "here is the information you wanted me to get."

Lieutenant Todd picked it up gingerly "It didn't take them long to talk." he commented.

"It never takes long. But some of them can be a bit stubborn."

"Like the nigger bitch we are holding, eh?"

"She was interrogated by bunglers, if I may say so. She would not resist me."

Todd looked amused "You want her?"

"I can make her talk."

"You seem rather eager to get her. Do you like black meat so much?"

Haskell stiffened "I only seek to do my duty."

"Yes, you do." Todd rolled a pencil between his fingers "and you are good at it."

"Can I have her?"

"Yes, you can."

They went down, into a corridor filled with screams of pain.

"I want the Innes nigger" Todd said to the man in charge "I want Haskell to interrogate her."

Tammy Innes' face and body were covered with bruises and there was blood flowing from her nose and mouth when they got her.

"Still stubborn" Haskell muttered as he dragged her by the hair to his own private interrogation room.

"I always wanted to know how you did it." Todd said, trying to sound calm.

"Watch as much as you like" Haskell leered. "You may get into it, if you want."

* * *

Edmund was laboring under a particularly difficult problem when Quentin came in.

"How's he doing?" he bent over his son.

"He's doing better." Roxanne said.

"I hate math!" Edmund pouted.

"So did I when I was your age. But I got over it."

"I never will."

"You will."

Edmund growled, but this time he said nothing.

"Just keep working at it" Roxanne said softly "take your time and it will get better."

"Reminds me when I was his age." Quentin commented "always playing hooky every time I could. Daniel... Daniel was the same way.." his eyes moistened "I hope you don't let him get away with it."

"I don't"

They moved away so that Edmund would not listen to the rest of their conversation, as they now wanted to discuss Barnabas.

"He's going to be working with us. For the moment I will not need to offer myself to him. Our meeting was more embarrassing than anything else."

"Good. As long as he is with us." Quentin felt distaste discussing the matter "though you might need to do it later on, if he balks."

"What will you ask him to do now?"

"We are going to use him to infiltrate Todd, for starters."

* * *

Tammy sobbed on the floor, naked, while Haskell prodded her with his foot.

"I told you that I'd make her talk."

"Yes, you did. Does she have anything else to tell?"

"No, she doesn't"

"Then we don't need her anymore" almost casually he took out his gun and shot her. "have them clean this place. You got quite messy with her."

"You don't like it?" Haskell dared his superior to say he hadn't.

"I liked it." Todd would not show his feelings to Haskell. He had been thinking of Vicky while Haskell had been busy with the helpless body. At first it had been must missing her, but as the screams mounted and Haskell kept at it, he had begun to see Vicky is his mind, twisting and screaming under Haskell's hands...

No.. not Vicky. She was not a nigger bitch. She was a lady...

Yet some part of him was excited by the idea. To have Vicky naked and helpless on the floor...

He wondered if Haskell could guess what he was thinking. The idea of Haskell and Vicky...

No, not that. Not even think of them in the same sentence. Men like Haskell were needed, but not around Vicky.

* * *

Will was typing furiously without stopping.

"Will?" Barnabas said as he eased himself on a chair.

"You want to talk some more?" Will growled.

"You still angry?"

"No. If you don't like, you don't like it." he beat on the keys a bit more before adding "why didn't you like it?"

"It seemed... contrived."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Somehow it came out as if yourself didn't believe in it. You could not make me believe that you cared for what was happening in the plot."

"Well, if you say so." Will shrugged.

"I think that it could be improved by a rewrite."

"You think so?"

"It would help."

"Well, as a matter of fact I got here something along that line." He extended Barnabas some papers "take a look at these."

"I don't know if I'll have the time now. Quentin is expecting me, and I have to go to Dr. Blair in order to arrange for... for my supplies. I don't want to go to Buffy anymore. At least for a while."

"So be late. If you get hungry, take it from Quentin. If he wants you that much, he must be willing to do it."

Barnabas sighed, but as there weren't that many pages, he took them and bowed to the inevitable.

He only wished that he knew of a polite way to say that it stank. To be truthful, Will's writing could be described as cruel and unusual punishment.

He finally finished reading them.

"Do you like it?" Will asked anxiously.

"It...it shows improvement." Barnabas decided to be diplomatic.

"It is good, isn't it?"

"It shows promise. Of course, I have to see how the rest of it goes."

Of all the dumb things he could say... Now Will would make him read the rest of the wretched thing...

Why did Will have to be a writer? With all the opportunities to be found in horticulture, why did he have to sit at the typewriter?

...But Will had been condemned to the typewriter until he, eventually, produced one good book.

And if Will needed help, why not give it to him?

* * *

The plans were simple enough. Invite Chris and Vicky over, on the pretext of buying Chris' Tate portrait of his great-grandfather. Then, let Vicky wander off by herself, until she met Barnabas.

With Vicky in Barnabas' control, they should be able to tap onto the information that Todd was privy to.

Of course, Barnabas had not agreed to it yet, but if he was reluctant, Roxanne could help convince him.

Quentin looked at his watch. Barnabas was late coming in. Where could he be?

As he moved to the window, impatiently, he finally saw the bat flying towards him.

"I thought you weren't coming" Quentin said.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"I am sorry to be late." Barnabas offered.

"What happened?"

"Will Loomis. He's earthbound, writing a book, and he wanted me to read it."

Quentin shook his head "You mean that for that you stood me up?"

"I owed something to him, and anyway, it is not so terrible"

Quentin's nostrils flared "Not so terrible? Do you know what a slip of your part could cost us? What it could cost Roxanne?"

"Plenty?"

"The penalty for what we are doing is slow strangulation with a piano wire, while hanging from a meat hook. Think about it. Really think about it happening to me and Roxanne."

Barnabas gulped.

"I want you to understand what the situation is. You come form a very peaceful place. You can afford to be civilized. We can't. We have to do certain things to survive." his voice lowered as he was ashamed to confess to what he had done. "Thins that five years ago we believed ourselves to be incapable of... We have seen and done things that would turn your stomach."

"And you want me to do some of those things?"

"Yes. It will be hard for you. I know that you don't like hurting anyone. I heard both Buffy and Roxanne say so. I believe it. But we cannot afford that kind of attitude. We will spare you the worst of it. Still..." Quentin stiffened himself and shook off his self-pity. "You said you were with Will. Does that mean that you haven't fed yet?"

"No. Will suggested that I take from you."

"All right." Quentin pulled up his sleeve. "As long as you don't make yourself a target by going out to people you don't know how much you can trust, everything is fine."

Barnabas bent over the exposed wrist, and Quentin turned his eyes away.

"And as long as you are here" Quentin continued "I will tell you about my cousin Chris, his wife Victoria, and Captain Todd, and what I want you to do."

* * *

Phillip ran his hands over Vicky's body. She was so soft, so beautiful... he could never tire of her...

"Must you go?" he asked.

"Chris and I are invited to Collinwood. Quentin wants to buy a painting that Chris owns."

"And which Chris has no intention of selling."

"No, but he does want to see the inside of Collinwood. Decide what changes to make when he owns the place."

"Didn't you explain to him that isn't done to arrest somebody as prominent as Quentin Collins? The father of a posthumous medal of honor recipient? Specially when the only charge is that his cousin wants his estate?"

"I know. But Chris is stubborn. Oh, well, I have to dress. I will be late, and Chris will be angry."

Phillip went pale.

"Does he...hurt you?"

"Nothing important." Vicky shook her head.

As Vicky dressed, an image came into Phillip's mind. A woman's naked body twisting, howling in pain...

Why had he watched Haskell at work? He knew that those things happened. They were necessary. But it was dirty work, better left to scum like Haskell. People who actually _liked _to do that.

Was it true that Haskell raped the dead bodies? Men as well as women? It was rumored that he did that, and he put nothing past Haskell...

...if only there was no need to rub shoulders with his kind...

But the alternative was to let the nigger run wild, turning the country into a jungle. Or let the greasers open the door to a Southern Republics invasion. Or allow the Canadians to infiltrate or...

No, it was better this way.

Yet, watching Vicky's beautiful body he wished he could be in a different place, a different world. A world without Joseph Haskell or the need for him...

"We will make that world" he promised himself "a world for the two of us, alone."

* * *

Chris Collins examined the inside of Collinwood with a proprietary air. This place should be his by right, not Quentin's. And one day it would be his.

He hated the taste in furniture. He would change all that. He studied the portrait gallery. These would have to go. Too many of them were ugly. And anyway, Tad Collins and his descendants were the usurpers here. This place should have belong by rights to his ancestor, David Collins, Edith's son.

"It that a Tate?" Vicky pointed at one portrait.

"No." Chris sneered "The only Tate in the family is the one we have Great-Grandfather Quentin."

"He looks a lot like him." Vicky pointed to the portrait of Quentin Collins, husband of Samantha Collis and father of Tad Collins."

"Yes, he does. Officially he was great-grandfather great uncle. In fact, he was his grandfather."

"That's ancient history, anyway" Quentin said amiably.

"David Collins was this man's firstborn, not Tad" Chris said vehemently. "He should have inherited the estate."

"David might have been a firstborn, but he was also illegitimate.. And he was well provided for."

"He should have inherited it."

"Even if he had, what good would it have done you? Your great-grandfather was only a third son."

"Judith died without heirs. And all of Edward's descendants are dead now: Elizabeth, Roger, and Carolyn."

"Not counting of course, any illegitimate children that Edward, Jamison, and Roger might have had."

"None has shown up." Chris shrugged "this should be mine."

Quentin smiled, not out of amiability but to show his teeth. "I don't understand you, Chris. Why this obsession with owning Collinwood? You have your law practice, you make a good living. Many envy you. And I have helped you in the past.

"Kept me on a leash, you mean.? You'd have let me live in Collinwood, like Roger. I saw what your 'generosity' did to him. I don't want to owe you anything. I want what's rightfully mine."

Vicky moved away from them. She had heard this argument so often from Chris that she didn't care to hear it again.

...If only Quentin was out of the way...

Because Chris would let her go the moment he moved into Collinwood. He wanted a woman of impeccable social descent as the mistress of Collinwood. He wanted a titled aristocrat of the Old World. Like Countess Josette du Pres, who had married Barnabas Collins. Like Lady Katherine Hampshire, who had married Edward...

She wished that Chris' new wife should prove more of a disappointment to Chris than Lady Hampshire had been to Edward...

"Apart from Collinwood which I can give you" Quentin said "what would satisfy you."

Vicky poured herself a drink. This was going to be a dreary evening. There was not even someone to talk to. Not that she cared much for Maggie when she was alive, but at least they were of the same social position. Trying to make conversation with Roxanne Drew, a servant and a concubine, was too much for her.

"Mrs. Collins" Vicky turned and saw the housekeeper, Harrington "there is someone here to see you."

"Who is it?"

"He said you'd not recognize the name."

"Who is he?"

"Mr. Barnabas Collins."

Vicky shrugged. "He's right. I do not recognize the name. What does he want?"

"To pay his respects."

"And ask a favor of Lieutenant Todd, of course."

"He said nothing of the sort."

"That's what they all want. All right, I'll see him."

Buffy led her away and opened the door to the room where Barnabas was waiting.

"Mrs. Collins" Barnabas bowed in her direction. "it is a pleasure."

"Barnabas Collins? Like..."

"Like my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, give or take a couple of greats." he took her hand and kissed it.

There was something strange about the situation, Barnabas felt. Why couldn't he just grab her and bite her? Why go through this charade? He only needed to grab her and put a hand over her mouth...Buffy would hold her until he was done. Chris would not hear a thing.

But he resisted it. Maybe it was the memory of the other Vicky. Maybe it was his reluctance over the role Quentin had forced on him.

"But I thought that there were no more descendants of Barnabas Collins."

"Yes, it seemed so. But there was this son who never amounted to anything, and one day he just disappeared. Well, he did all right by himself in South America, after all, and started his own branch of the family., of which I am a part."

"And you want lay claim to Collinwood, too?"

"What for?" he laughed. "I wouldn't know what to do with it. I don't have the temperament of a country squire. I like to travel, have fun... and you can't do those things when you have to worry with the upkeep of a place like this."

Vicky sighed. "I wish Chris shared your viewpoint."

"Thank you, Mrs. Collins. And now I have a little favor to ask of you."

"What do you want from Lieutenant Todd?"

"Not from him. From you. Look into my eyes."

Surprised at the command in his voice, she obeyed and felt herself caught into a strong grip, rooted to the spot. Fear climbed in her, but she could not make a sound. She saw him coming, opening his mouth...

"Complete control" Quentin had said "anything less is signing our death warrant. And anyway, if she wants to go to bed with the local overseer of the torture chambers, she should be willing to pay the price for it."

So he forced his will brutally upon her, with no consideration nor pity. He felt the blood slide over his tongue, and her mind kept fighting off the hooks he was trying to force on it.

He did not know how long the mental struggle lasted. But he finally knew when it was over. Victoria's will was broken and her mind opened herself to total domination.

Memories of the other Vicky, huddled into a fetal position among the mist came guiltily to him. What difference was there with what he was doing now?

He could not finish it. He had enough control of her. There was no need to create the mindless zombie that Quentin thought was called for.

He let her go, ashamed of himself.

"You can rejoin the others, Mrs. Collins" he told her. "Say nothing of this."

"I understand, Master."

The word stung him. He would like to deny it. But it was true. From now on, their relationship would be a master-slave one. Victoria Collins was as much her slave as if he had bought her and paid for her.

* * *

The paper pile had grown by Will Loomis' side as he kept typing.

There was a rustle of wings and Barnabas collapsed on one of the chairs.

"You back?" Will asked, without lifting his eyes.

"Yes. James Bond, agent 007 is back." Barnabas said bitterly.

"Good, you see how much have I been writing?"

"I didn't know it could be like this... I had forgotten how bad it could get. And even before... I never did what Quentin wanted me to do..."

"I am almost finished" Will picked up the papers and tried to give them to Barnabas. "Read them"

"It was bad enough what happened to Maggie. But at least I was mad and not responsible for my actions. But this..."

"Come on, pick it up. You'll like it." Will insisted.

"And it is going to get worse. Quentin hinted that much... I will now be doing his dirty work."

"Barnabas!" Will screamed "I got all this waiting for you. Will you read it?"

Barnabas turned his head and looked at Will He smiled sadly. "Not now."

"You promised!"

"Not now, Will. I had a bad experience and I want to feel miserable about it in peace and quiet. I want to talk about myself now. You don't have to listen. Just stop pushing your work on me."

"But will you read it later?"

"Yes. I will"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Sergeant Joseph Haskell was enjoying his drink at the Eagle. He was alone, but very much aware of the way everyone was staring at him.

They were in awe of him. Some were afraid, and some envied him.

That was power, the looks they gave him. That and the ability to twist bodies day after day and do with them as he pleased.

The waitress was pretty. Trim, young... how would she look naked and shivering with fear as she waited for him to begin? How would she look after he was done?

He licked his lips... maybe he could get her... no, it was too much trouble with Lieutenant Todd. And there was easier meat available.

Todd was a fool. Carrying with Victoria Collins and acting the star-crossed lover.

Any fool could see what the solution was. Arrest Chris Collins and beat a confession out of him. Or, if he did not want Victoria to be known as the widow of a traitor, well, execute Quentin Collins and give Collinwood to Chris...

But Todd had scruples... he somehow did not understand what the score was.

Well, no woman would make a fool out of him. The ones he wanted were down in the cells. And he had them, one by one.

Still that waitress... pity, to have to leave her alone, but then you could not have them all.

The waitress saw Haskell looking at her and shivered, wishing that she was miles away.

* * *

"Dr. Blair" Barnabas materialized inside the room "I hope that you have the supplies ready."

"Indeed I do. They were ready yesterday, but you had another source."

Barnabas shivered. "Let's not talk about yesterday, please."

"You dealt with Mrs. Victoria Collins."

"It was bad enough having to do it. I don't have to talk about it."

"We all do things we don't like." Blair shook his head sadly "let's hope that that's the worst you will be asked to do."

He went to the refrigerator. As he was to open the door he heard Barnabas' voice. "What was the worst you were asked to do?"

Blair's hand froze on the handle. He wished not to speak of it, yet the guilt was too much, and Barnabas' voice was sympathetic enough.

"She...she was a half-wit. She learned too much and I had to silence her. She could have betrayed me to the secret police... We could not let that happen."

"You killed her."

"Yes." Blair admitted "It is easy for a doctor to simulate natural causes... we had to do it...there was no other way."

Barnabas nodded at that, not trusting himself to say the right thing.

"I won't ask you again." he finally said "and I am sorry I brought it up."

"It is all right." he opened the refrigerator and said, with a smile "I bet this is the first time you have done it this way."

"It is also the first time I am considered a weapon."

* * *

"Is anything the matter?" Phillip asked Vicky "you look sick."

"Chris again."

"Chris again. You should leave him."

"And where would I go?"

"With me."

"No, it would only hurt you. It could be the end of our career, everything you care for..."

"It means nothing without you."

"I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for me."

They made love. She wondered how she could do it, how she could kiss him and tell him she loved him while she was ready to betray him.

She would soon be worming information out of him, rifling his briefcase, reading his papers... and telling _him_ of what she had found.

_Him_. How she hated even his name. His courtly manner, his apologetic smile. _He_ was doing this to her..

And she couldn't even warn Phillip.

* * *

Barnabas hung in the air. There was nothing else to do the rest of the night. Tomorrow Quentin would have more work for him to do. From what he guessed, it would be not only handling Vicky, but sabotage. He would have to learn about explosives...

But until then, he was free.

He wished that he could have stayed longer with Dr. Blair, but it was clear that the man wished to be left alone. He probably drank in secret...

He would not go to Collinwood. He did not want to risk meeting Quentin and Roxanne embracing.

But where else to go? The Old House? Yes, he could resume human form there, stretch his legs...

But in the Old House Will was typing and producing more work. And there was a limit to the amount of bad prose that he could be asked to endure.

He saw the people below him. If only he could join them, share in their conversations, their fun... All the small pleasures that he took for granted back home.

But he could not. He had no right to He was a weapon, a secret weapon. A thing. Just as Vicky was a thing...

Sadly he turned, and flew into the night.

* * *

"Do I have to study again? Why can't I go swimming?" Edmund pouted.

"Study first, Swimming second." Roxanne said with a smile "that's an order."

"You are mean!" Edmund shouted "You are not my mother!"

Roxanne was taken aback. Some part of her mind told her that Edmund could not remember much of Maggie. That children said those things all the time s a way to play adults against each other...

But it stung. Maggie had been the legitimate wife. She was only the mistress, the concubine. And she had to be thankful that she got a man at all, with her burned face.

"That will not work, Edmund" she said firmly "You have to study."

Quentin wouldn't have thought of throwing Maggie into another man's arms. Not the way he was thinking of pushing her into Barnabas' arms. She was a convenience for Quentin, nothing more. A teacher for his son. A willing body to satisfy his physical needs. A good soldier in the fight. Nothing else.

But who else would have taken her with her burned face?

Would Barnabas? If she was free of Quentin, would Barnabas try to move in?

She remembered Barnabas as she had first known him. He had been so gentle... so caring...

And she had bee young and beautiful then.

* * *

Quentin has been keeping very busy these last days." Will remarked to Barnabas who was making himself comfortable on the sofa.

'Yes." Barnabas said. "How is your writing going?"

"I thought that you wanted none of it." Will said, surly.

"I was upset over what I had to do to Vicky. It had not been this bad for... for years. And it all came back to me. And then Blair's story... I have too many memories, Will, too many bad ones."

"But you can stomach it better now?"

"Yes. At least the kind of stuff we are getting out of Todd makes it somehow worth it. But I like sabotage best. Putting those explosives where no one can guess they are. And raiding their own depots for the explosives."

"You won't like it when somebody gets glow up by those explosives."

"Some have. But those are war casualties." Barnabas' voice was less sure now. "I have been in war before."

"Well," Will lifted the pile of paper "You said you wanted to read this?'

Barnabas took a deep breath and lied "I'd love to."

* * *

Buffy checked that she had every item in her shopping list. She kept her eyes low, so as not to meet Sergeant Haskell's gaze... If only he would go away... if only he stopped looking at her..

Knowing that she could not delay any longer, she went out, keeping her eyes down.

'Hello, beautiful" Haskell said. He did not think Buffy to be beautiful. She was too old for him. He just loved watch her squirm.

Buffy muttered some meaningless words and kept walking.

"Didn't you hear me?" Haskell caught her and pulled her to him. "You are not very friendly. But I heard you used to be different in the old days. When you worked at the 'Eagle' and brought men back to your apartment.:

Haskell kissed Buffy, as she kept reminding herself not to resist.

"But you are cold now. And old. And ugly. Who wants you, anyway?" he released her, laughing nastily.

Buffy hurried back to Collinwood, trying to tell herself that Haskell would forget her as soon as she was out of his sight.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Well, how did you like it?" Will asked.

Barnabas gulped. No way out of telling the truth this time.

"You didn't like it again." Will said, accusingly.

"I... I don't know what's the matter with it."

"You don't like it."

"It starts well, but it goes downhill. The characters are wooden. I can't believe in them for a moment. The plot, well, it has interesting twists, but nothing comes off them. The surprise ending is artificial. And there are better ways to convey emotion than by putting exclamation points all over the page."

"But you liked it at first..."

"I said that it was an improvement over the previous one.."

"But still no good.

"Maybe you should reevaluate what you really want to write about and how to do it right. Instead of filling page after page you should think more about what you put on paper... And try to have believable characters. If the characters are believable, you can get away with murder when it comes to plots."

"So it is back to square one, is that it?"

"Take your time. Think it through."

He wondered what good his advice will do. Will Loomis was a born hack for whom books were graded on how much they weighted.

"Well, I have to go. Got Quentin's work to do."

* * *

Quentin was still busy with a visitor when he got there, so he couldn't barge in.

Cautiously, so as not to attract attention, he began to wander around. It had been a long time since he had seen the inside of Collinwood. Back home, he wasn't welcome by Carolyn. Here he was, but only on a conditional basis.

There were steps coming in his direction. He dematerialized and waited until Quentin and his visitor had gone upstairs, Quentin showing him up to the guest room.

The visitor... It could not be him...could he?

When Buffy came by, she found him staring ahead, mouth agape.

"The man who was with Quentin..."

"Old friend of his" Buffy said.

"Ed Muskie?"

"What's so special about him?"

"In my world he's the Secretary of State."

"Him?"

"Him" he recovered his balance. "Have you been crying"" he asked, noticing her red eyes.

"It is nothing. Sergeant Haskell gave me a scare today. But he didn't mean it. If I was still young and pretty, then I should worry."

"What do you mean?"

"A girl here knows that when Haskell asks her, let him have his way, even if he hurts her. Because if she doesn't, she ends up in the cellars and Haskell has her anyway... the last one, when they hanged her, they said she had not face left."

"And is he after you?" Barnabas was shocked.

"No. I am not young enough for him. He just wanted to scare me. Tomorrow he'll have forgotten all about me."

"I could kill him." Barnabas offered.

"No. You'd only make things more difficult for us."

"Why? It could be done easily."

"What could be done easily?" Quentin appeared noiselessly behind them.

"I offered to kill Haskell. You know what he did to Buffy?"

"I know what he did." Quentin said calmly "But we cannot kill him."

"Why not?"

"Because he's only be replaced with someone that we cannot get around so well. With all his unpleasantness, he will not see certain things because he's too busy chasing his... fun."

"What if he goes after her?"

"He won't. Buffy must have already explained to you why."

"She may still be in danger."

"Well, if you think she is, she can go to your own Universe. She would be safe there."

"But..."

"That's enough. I have work for you tonight, and it is not Haskell. It is a munitions plant."

"A bomb again?"

"Again"

* * *

The bomb ticked under the stones, but the small noise was drowned by the rumblings of the nearby sea and by the beeps and chirrups of insects and birds. It was well hidden under stones and soil. And by the knowledge that no man could have reached that spot unobserved.

Dawn and come and Barnabas was resting, oblivious to the world, probably dreaming of being back home, with his friends, showing his face without fear of any kind.

Quentin, Roxanne, and Edmund were strolling and looking respectable for everyone to see.

And Elsa Quarles was gathering blueberries. She had plenty, but she wanted more. And she knew where to find some large bushes, near the plant. She would not let the guard chase her away.

The guard saw her, and tensed. Just a child, gathering berries. But children had been known to throw Molotov cocktails...

No, it was the Quarles girl. Good family. Good stock all of them. She was a willful child, overbright, and obstinate. But a nice kid.

Still she should be taught not to come here.

"Stop there!" he shouted at her.

"Me?" Elsa looked innocently at the guar.

"This is no place for children."

"I wasn't doing anything wrong."

The man's face darkened. He rebreed another girl as young as Elsa saying those same words. And Sergeant Haskell had handcuffed there and taken her away...

And they were probably hanging her now, with the others...

Well, it was a nigger and a saboteur. She deserved it... Still to see Haskell put his hands on her...

"You should not be there." he repeated to Elsa.

"Why not?'

"Because children should not be here!"

Then the bomb went off, without warning. First it as the explosion, making metal and stone fly in all directions. Then a wall of flame...

The guard was thrown a few feet away, and was killed by the impact.

And Elsa was crushed under stones...

* * *

"A girl of less than twelve years" Quentin said somberly "killed in the explosion."

"It was an accident." Roxanne said vehemently "she was not meant to be there. We did not mean for it to happen."

Yet it did." Quentin gulped. "Well, we knew that there was a price to be paid in blood when we started. But not that it would be so high."

"She was innocent" Roxanne said. "But innocence is not defense anymore. Neither Todd nor Haskell cares for it. And they did kill children today, and not by accident."

"Yes, you are right." he smiled ruefully "you are a good soldier, Roxanne."

She accepted the praise, nodding. "So don't blame yourself for it."

Quentin was silent for some seconds " Have you any idea what this will do to Barnabas?"

"Barnabas?"

"He placed the bomb. And now he's killed a child. He's never hurt a child before. He gets sick thinking about it. And now he has done it."

"We can't allow him to pull out. He's too useful to us."

Quentin looked at her. "You know what we could offer him to make him stay with us."

She knew that he was right. She would have decided it on her own. Still she felt angry to hear it discussed so casually by him. She replied in a tone as cold-blooded as his. "How far should I go with him?"

"As far as you need to."

"Do you think that he is capable of normal sexual relations?" There, it was said.

"From what he told me, he is."

"So I tell him that if he stays with us, he can stick it into me for as long as he wants?"

"Roxanne!"

"I don't see why we shouldn't called it by its proper name. And don't act the lover now. Our relationship is a convenience, nothing more."

"I love, you, Roxanne."

"Not like you loved Maggie. You wouldn't have asked this of Maggie. You would not have pimped her."

Quentin lowered his head, knowing that she was right. "We cannot lose him." he said lamely "you said so yourself."

"Yes, I did."

"Roxanne, you are my second in command. If anything happened to me you could take over at any moment. Now, tell me, if I wasn't here, if it was your decision to make, what would you do to keep Barnabas working for you?"

"Anything it took." Roxanne said, without hesitation.

"You would sell yourself for what we both believe in. And I would sell you. And stop comparing yourself to Maggie. She... she would have never been the soldier that you are. I loved her, you know that. She made me happy, very happy. But I cannot imagine her as my second in command... maybe if she was alive, I'd be too afraid to do what I am doing now, because I could endanger . But..."

"But I can take care of myself,"

"Yes."

* * *

Roxanne waited for dusk to fall and for Barnabas to come with his protests and his revulsion. She was ready for him.

It would be tricking him but... but what right did he have to judge them? He came from a place where people behaved like human beings. He could afford to have scruples. If he had to stay here, as long as they had, how much of those he would have left?

Wasn't it enough that she was fighting to end this reign of terror? Their own methods wren not what they should be... but...but they wren the only hope this country had to return to civilized life.

At their worst, they had never come close to Sergeant Haskell. Nor Captain Todd with his proper, prim manner and white gloves, who always regretted the atrocities he carried out, not out of conscience, but because it offended his sense of cleanliness. Who could both despise and employ Haskell. Who fancied himself a gentleman of the old school while presiding at mass hangings and torture chambers.

The beating of wings told her that Barnabas was there.

"Barnabas" she said, then quickly, before he could speak she put her arms around him. "it is terrible"

"That girl..." Barnabas said numbly, seeking refuge in Roxanne's arms.

"And you were the one who put the bomb. After we told you to. But we did not want it..."

Barnabas held her closer. He could not protest. Roxanne...

His mind was filled with memories of the other Elsa. The one who had a crush on him. Who had given him the kittens. Who had stuck needles in his fingers to see if it was true that he felt nothing in the daytime...

He had never hurt a child...had never wanted to.

And Roxanne was close to him. She was as shaken by it as he was. And she was Roxanne, the one he had missed so much... the one who brought him back so many memories... The blood was flowing now between his teeth an he wasn't even aware of it.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Barnabas pulled away from Roxanne "It is terrible" he said once he was able to speak again.

"Yes, it is." Roxanne admitted "Yet, what else can we do?"

"I can't do that again. I can't place another bomb while there are children playing around."

Roxanne sighed. "Sometimes I wish I could do the same. That I could forget about this and live a normal life."

"And why don't you?"

"Because it isn't a normal life out there!" she shouted, forgetting to play her part. "how can it be, with what is going on out there? Concentration camps, mass executions, persecution, arbitrary arrests... with Sergeant Haskell roaming loose?"

"But must you be the one to set it right?"

"Yes. Somebody must do it!" she barked at him "Maybe it means nothing to you, but this is my country. These are my people. I can't sit down and idly wait for better times. I have to make them come to us!"

She stopped and wiped her eyes, trying to regain her self control. "Did you hear the last information that Vicky gave us?"

"Some of it."

"Then you know that today was another mass execution, What Todd calls an example. Go look at the bodies. Then you'll know what we are up against. No, it does not excuse what we did, but still go see it."

* * *

There was no missing the place, There were lights, and even without the lights, the stench of death announced where the bodies would be.

They were there, hanging. Twenty three. They swung there, hands tied behind their backs, their eyes bulging, their mouths open, trying to catch one desperate breath...

They had died slowly. And he could see the thin wires that had been used to slowly strangle them. Piano wire , Quentin had said.

And the children... Because there were six children there. One as young as five, with his eyes bulging, his face showing terror and pain. Suffering slow death under the piano wire... for how long?

They couldn't...

But they did.

And he saw the sign. The elegant phrases where they declared it to be an act of strict justice, a duty carried for the Fatherland. Pious sentiments that next to those foul deeds made him gag.

And the signature for those words. Lieutenant Phillip Todd.

* * *

"You have seen how it is." Roxanne said, when he came back. "When they kill children it is not by accident."

"Why? What had they done to deserve that?"

"Some were passing for white. A couple had harbored fugitives. Another had a shop that a Party member wanted. One of the women would not sleep with somebody of the secret police... the usual reasons."

Barnabas sobbed. He could not forget the dangling feet, the bulging eyes, the red line of the wire... The children who had died slowly and painfully... He could not forget the stench, because those who hanged lost control of their bodily functions, and some of them must have been aware of that ultimate indignity...

He hugged Roxanne closer "I had no idea it would be like this."

He pressed here head over his shoulder. trying to get her as close as he could. He needed...he needed...

But it wasn't hunger in him now. it couldn't be hunger with the memory of her blood in his mouth...

The need was in him, and before he could stop to think, he was kissing her, and running his hands under her blouse, seeking the bra strap...

* * *

He turned to her, helped to stand up again.

"I am sorry" he said. "I did not mean.."

"I know. You saw what the very correct Captain Todd does." she sighed. "I have become quite calloused about it. I have forgotten how terrible it was the first time it happened."

"I didn't mean to rape you."

"This whole rotten thing is too much for anyone. But it wasn't rape. I wanted it, too."

"Did you?"

She knew the answer she must give, the answer that would bind him to her and Quentin further. What she did not know was that it would be the truth.

"I wanted you ever since you came back."

"But you and Quentin..."

"We are lovers, but we don't love each other."

Barnabas looked at her, puzzle.

"We do not hate each other, either. We do like and respect each other" she smiled sadly "I think that the only true bond between us is our work in the Underground. The best compliment he gives me is that I am a good soldier."

He hugged her closer.

"I don't complain" she insisted "I like to hear it... Barnabas" she said suddenly "Do you think that I am still beautiful? In spite of my scars? Do you still desire me?"

"You are beautiful, Roxanne."

And indeed, with her deep eyes staring at him, with that fiery hair, how could she not be?

"Then take me again. Take me as you just did. But not because you want to forget that horror. Take me because I am beautiful and desirable... take me because I am the woman you have been searching in vain all those years, take me because nothing else matters but you and me. Take my body and tell me that there is no other body as beautiful as mine...

He was bending again over hr, kissing her breasts, feeling how his desire was growing again under her agitated words and eager hands. He kissed her in the mouth, almost savagely. He moved to her cheek, on the smooth part, to her temple, to her forehead.

Then his lips touched the scars. He kissed them too. Even her scars were beautiful now.

* * *

"Will he continue working for us?' Quentin asked.

"Yes. He will"

"Did you have trouble convincing him?"

"A bit."

"Was it...hard?" Quentin could not say more. He shouldn't want to ask more...

"Not as bad as I thought."

He wanted to know if she had had sex with Barnabas, Roxanne thought. But he did not dare speak of it aloud. He didn't want to know what it had been like...

Sex with Quentin had never been like that. Pleasurable, yes. Friendly, yes. But Quentin had never given of himself. Even in that most intimate of moments he was withdrawn.

She wondered if this was because she was not the legitimate wife... because he could not forget Maggie...

Her mind moved back to those scenes she had witnessed between Quentin and Maggie. Yes, there had been a barrier there, too. Quentin had been kind to Maggie, had tried honestly to make her happy. But he had never been close to her.

It was him who had insisted that Roxanne tag along, as friend and confidante to Maggie. She had been that. But the fact of having third person around impeded the intimacy.

All the overtures had been Maggie's No, he didn't rebuff them. He welcomed them and responded for a few days. But then, gradually, he slipped back into his reserve..

When Edmund was born he seemed to melt. Maggie had never looked so radiant than in those months following Edmund's birth. How she carried the child in her arms, smiling, cradling it, singing, while Quentin looked tenderly on.

But then sudden sickness. It seemed impossible that is such a short time Maggie could be gone (and they did not learn the truth about it till later). She saw again Quentin standing by Maggie's grave, his face turning to stone under his tears. And his heart turned a bit to stone...

And then Daniel dying in the war. More stone into his heart... He had come dangerously close to rejecting Edmund. He hadn't but for a while it was up to Roxanne to give Edmund the love and care that he needed.

Why had Quentin taken her to bed? Love? Convenience? A way to show gratitude for caring about Edmund?

Quentin would never need her the way Barnabas did. He could never hold her as if she was the only think that mattered in the world.

"Quentin" she said suddenly "Barnabas and I..."

"I know..." Quentin whispered.

Pimp was an ugly word, but he deserved it. He had treated Roxanne like a prostitute... That it was needed did not make it any easier.

"If it becomes necessary" she said coldly "do I continue?"

"You think it might be necessary?"

"It is difficult to predict with him. His mind works differently from ours."

'How different?"

"He had never seen Todd in action until yesterday. He's not inured to it. I wonder what it will cost him to...to get the habitude of it."

"And he might need to come back to you for comfort."

"Yes."

He looked at her with pain in his eyes. "You...you don't mind?"

"You know that we cannot afford to lose him" she said, a strange calm in her voice.

Quentin nodded. "I know."

"We might have to stop, you and I, so as not to make him jealous."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Chris stood under the portrait of his great-grandfather, Quentin Collins.

For a moment he hated that face, so alike the one of the present master of Collinwood. But that was not his great-grandfather's fault. It had been the _other_ Quentin's, the one who had kept both a wife and a mistress under the same roof by the simple expedient of marrying the mistress to his impotent brother, Gabriel. Made him agree to the deal by controlling the purse strings.

And it the end, it had been Samantha's son who had inherited all. The bastard had been barely provided for.

And when his great-grandfather showed too much of a resemblance to his supposed great-uncle, he was chased off Collinwood by the legitimate branch.

But he had made his fortune, back in Hungary, where he married and raised a family. A family that had had to escape, leaving their possessions behind, after a violent revolution there...

At least Great-Grandfather had given his children a sense of self-worth and belief in hard work. He had been the only one of his brothers and sisters who made it. The others... Edward had turned fortune hunter and thought he had struck it rich with a Lady Kitty Hampshire, only to find out that she was in the same racket as himself. They had opened a combination gambling house and brothel, and raised their children in that atmosphere... small surprises that Edward's descendants only were competent at cadging money out of Quentin...

Judith had followed her grandmother's example, and became the concubine for the master of Collinwood. There were no children by her, and thus no major scandal.

Carl Collins... that was a joke. Had turned to crime, and had proved incompetent at it. The hangman's noose had put an end to his pitiful criminal career.

Half of the Collinses were wastrels. The other half, stinking hypocrites.

Except him. He had made it on his own, just like his great-grandfather. He was the only one who could administer the Collins business properly.

Quentin did not know how to manage it. Like his ancestors, he had let his affairs slip. The Collins empire that Joshua Collins had built had been eroded bit by bit by his descendants. beginning with Barnabas Collins, the subject of that dreadful book by the hack that had married Carolyn Stoddard...

He realized that he was rambling. Railing at the Collins ancestors and enumerating the historical wrong that he had become the heir to. But that didn't get him any closer to getting what was rightfully his.

The truth was very simple. Captain Todd, with that curiously scrupulous mind of his, would never execute Quentin "Collins for treason. Not without a good cause. Not even if Quentin's death was the price for Vicky.

He was a weird one, that Todd. The knight errant of the torture chamber, not even once staining his impeccable white gloves.

...No, he was rambling again. And that was not what was needed.

Accept the fact that you became a cuckold for nothing. It was a waste of time, dealing with Captain Todd.

But suppose Captain Todd was removed... Suppose he was replaced by someone more reasonable...

Like Sergeant Joseph Haskell.

* * *

Victoria was resisting him. He couldn't mistake the struggle going on in her mind. He had once felt the same struggle from Maggie.

...No... he should not think about Maggie. This was different...or was it.?

"You don't like this?" he asked, stupidly.

"I hate you. You make me betray him."

"He deserves to be betrayed." he said bitterly.

"He's a good man."

"Good? I have seen the children he ordered hanged. Slowly, painfully strangled. Don't you know what he does in his torture chambers? Do you know what kind of death it is to be slowly strangled by a piano wire? Ask him, he's seen it done often enough."

She glared at him. "How dare you? You are not even human."

"If Captain Todd is your standard of humanity, then I am glad I am not."

"He's a good, decent man!"

"Not in the business he's in."

"It is politics! We are at war and it can get unpleasant at times. It is a dirty war..."

"With men like Haskell and Todd, how could it be otherwise?"

"He's not like Haskell. He despises Haskell!"

"But he uses him."

"He has to!"

He lifted her in his arms, and stared at her eyes. "You really believe that Todd is a good man? After all you know of him?"

"He's given me love" Tears formed in her eyes.

"Yes. He can be kind and gentle with you. Provided that your skin is of the right color. If you were not white, how do you think he'd treat you?"

She stiffened.

"He hangs people whose only people is passing for white."

"How... how could you know?" Victoria asked, her voice trembling.

"So your are _not_ white. And you still love a man who'd turn you over to Haskell the moment he found out."

"He wouldn't! He loves me!

"You are living in a fool's paradise" his anger was gone now, only sadness and bewilderment remained "and the penalty for that is death."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"No. Captain Todd will."

She stared at him with as much contempt as she could gather. He would force his will upon her again. He would send her to hurt the man she loved. But nothing prevented her from showing what she thought of him.

How could she be so blind? How could anyone?

Sighing, he bit her.

* * *

"Will" he said "Can you take yourself off the typewriter long enough to lend me an ear?"

"Huh?" Will answered "what is wrong this time?"

"Victoria Collins. I can't understand her. I can't understand Captain Todd nor anything in this crazy place."

"What is it that you can't understand?"

"Victoria has black blood somewhere in her ancestry. She knows what Todd would do to her if he found out. But still she clings to him."

"And Captain Todd?"

"He can be kind, gentle and honorable. When not torturing and hanging people."

"Split personality, eh?" Will laughed "Poor Cyrus! Fiddling around with chemicals when a little ideology can do the same job much faster... All right, Todd learned to classify people into human beings and animals. Quentin is a human being and thus to be dealt with honorably. A mixed breed is an animal, probably a dangerous one to be handled efficiently to prevent it from harming human beings. As for Victoria, she's been treated like a human being, so she cannot believe that she is an animal, even if there is a paper somewhere that says so. She feels like a human being. She has all the beliefs and prejudices of human beings."

"But how could they?"

"Decide that some people are animals, an others human beings? It's been done before. Didn't your mind work the same way at one time?"

Will was right. He had been guilty of the same dichotomy himself. He had done things to an Indian woman that would have horrified him if they had been done to what they called a lady. He had classified Josette as a human being, to be treated with love and honor, and Angelique as an animal to be used. Treated kindly, like one would to an amusing pet, but no more...

"Yes." he admitted "it has been done before. But now it is totally out of control."

"It is shocking in the raw, isn't it?"

Barnabas was silent, for some moments, trying to fight the sense of pervading evil that he felt coming down to him. he had never seen such evil before... Nicholas, Laura, Petofi, Zachary... they all looked like talented amateurs. Even Jeb did not arouse in him the disgust he felt. Jeb and his people had not renounced any humanity. They were alien beings with their own values and goals... but this...

Trying to shake off those thoughts he turned to Will "How's your writing doing?"

"Slow. I am trying to take your advice and go over it. It isn't easy, but I think that it is improving."

"Have you tried writing about something you know about?"

"Providing you are not in it, of course."

"Right. You do not want Quentin to come exorcize you to protect his secret weapon."

"Yes, too risky. No, I will write about _her_."

"Who?"

"Angelique, of course."

* * *

Victoria stood in front of the mirror, her hand resting on her throat.

She couldn't escape. Now or ever. Phillip loved her and she was betraying him.

For how long would this hideous slavery last? For how long would she betray the man he loved to a creature she despised?

And she could not forget his voice. "He hangs people whose only people is passing for white."

But it was different for her. What did she have in common with that unwashed trash? She was different from them.

And Phillip loved her. Phillip would never hurt her.

* * *

Phillip toyed with the pocketknife, opening and closing the blade as he was still unwilling to go to sleep.

He was working later and later every day. He had less time now for Vicky, and that hurt. He only counted as living the hours he spent with her in that Universe of two, where none of the demands and miseries of the world had a share.

He opened the blade again, his thoughts still on Vicky, on what they shared, the two of them...

Vicky naked in bed, smiling, extending her arms to him. He putting her hands on her, ever so gently.

There was a prickling pain in his finger. He had cut himself with the blade.

And as he looked at the blood, he saw Haskell wielding the knife, bending over yet another body...

Over Vicky's body...


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Haskell studied Chris Collins as the other man insisted on paying for his drinks. Evidently he was getting nowhere with Captain Todd and was wondering if he would have better luck offering Vicky to him.

Chris kept his talk light, just dropping subtle hints here and there.

"Why not quit this game?' Haskell finally said "I don't want your wife." In truth, he had a passing interest in her, but he doubted that even a pimp like Chris would let him have her for what he really wanted.

"I didn't say anything about her." Chris sputtered.

"But you were about to say it." he laughed loudly "I hope that I don't shock you, but there is only one use I have found for women. For men, too. And I find you more attractive than her."

Chris shuddered uncontrollably. He knew that Haskell meant exactly as he said.

Haskell brought the glass to his lips. Abject terror, that was what he liked. Chris Collins was one of those who screamed before you touched them.

* * *

Blair put his stethoscope away "You are good for quite a long time." he told Quentin.

"Provided Haskell does not get me first, eh?"

Blair sighed at that. It was a fear they all lived with.

"Well, we have cyanide pills, Roxanne and I." Quentin said "I trust you have one, too. Otherwise they _will_ make you talk and betray."

"Yes. I do... I have a feeling that we have been pushing our luck too long."

"Yes.. Listen, about Roxanne. Barnabas fed on her a couple of days ago. More heavily than what is usual for him."

"If he does not repeat it, she is in no danger."

"But if her wounds reopened and she bled to death..."

"Then she would become a vampire. But as long as you make sure it does not happen..."

"Nicky., I want you to reopen those wounds until she changes. Roxanne agrees to it."

"I... I can't"

"Nicky. Roxanne is my second-in-command. When they come for me, she should be able to take over.."

"But what you ask..."

"When they arrest me, do you think that they'll leave her alone? The only ones they don't touch are the dead. And I want Roxanne to be officially dead by then. Once she is in the clear, she will be free to continue our work."

"It is madness..."

"No more madness than other things we have done. " Quentin spoke wistfully "I can feel Chris breathing down my neck. I will have Barnabas take Edmund to his Universe. I want Edmund to be safe. And I'll probably let him take Buffy too. I owe her that much. And when he is gone, I will send Roxanne to you. Bleed her, and save her blood, that she may use it to stage her death scene at Widow's Hill."

* * *

Barnabas hugged Roxanne closer "I had give you up for dead " he said "burned in the fire. I could not bear to think about it."

"Only my face was burned."

He kissed her. "Was it bad for you, all these years?"

"I can't complain. Quentin and Maggie took good care of me. When Collinwood was restored I expected you to come back. But you never did. Then Maggie died, and Quentin and I became closer.

"How did Maggie die?"

"It was a sudden thing. One day she was all right, and the next she was in a coma. We found out later that she had learned something she shouldn't about bacteriological warfare... when the Party still did not have complete control, and could not just have executed her as a traitor..."

Barnabas did not know what to say about that. The cold sense of evil he had begun to feel in this reality kept growing in him.. How could people live in such conditions? What did it do to them?

Roxanne saw him become silent and distracted. Hoping to draw him from the darkness she began tracing his lips with her fingers "Does Dr. Blair take good care of you?"

"It was... strange getting the habitude of it at first"

"If you get tired of it, come to me."

"No." he shook his head "You are my lover. I do not like to mix the two."

"But once it won't matter" she wanted to go to Blair with the wounds as fresh as possible. But if it was not today, it would be tomorrow, or the next day.

She felt a pang realizing how she and Quentin were using Barnabas. He deserved better than his. He wanted more than anything to take her with him, to safety. But she could not go. She wished that she could enjoy the life of a human being, instead of a soldier. But she could not.

Because she was a soldier. One who knew the realities only too well. She would do what she had to.

She cuddled up to him. "You want to make love to me now?"

"As long as you want it." he kissed her and began undoing her clothing.

Embracing him, Roxanne thought bitterly that this would be probably one of the last times she would be treated like a woman, or even a human being, for a long time.

* * *

Chris Collins knocked at Sergeant Haskell's door.

"You again?" Haskell sounded bored.

"I want to make a deal with you. I want Collinwood and I am as tired of my wife as you of Captain Todd.

"Who says that I am tired of Captain Todd?"

"He's a stickler for the rules, isn't he? He doesn't know what's to be done."

Haskell admitted the truth of it to himself, but said nothing. He wanted to know what Chris had to offer.

"And now there is a spy among you, isn't that true? One that you cannot identify and who warns those to be arrested."

"How...Well, you found out."

"You can make it be Captain Todd. Or at least be the one giving information to the spy."

Haskell grimaced.

"You could get his job.

"I am only a sergeant"

"It could be arranged."

"Could it?" he grimaced again. He could not smile properly, Chris thought "And how do we do about arranging it?"

"I found some papers of my wife's, which she had hidden from me. She had deceived me." Chris said in an air of mock outrage. "She's not white."

"And you just found out?' Haskell said with scorn.

"She is a very deceitful woman."

"So, Todd might have been deceived too.."

"But we can make sure he does not wiggle out of it. In any case, he'd be disgraced, which for him it is worse than death.. We tell him that death is the only escape from dishonor. He will take it. He is the type."

Haskell smiled. "Mr. Collins, you are a man after my own heart. You make that promotion come for me, and the next day Quentin Collins will swing from the gallows."

* * *

Barnabas riffled the papers.

"Much better, isn't it?" Will urged him. "I finally got on the right track."

Barnabas sighed.

"What?" Will shouted "You don't like it _again_? What is the matter with you?"

"Is this supposed to describe your relationship with Angelique?"

"It is! The way she seduced me and everything..

"The seduction part I got, all right. All those sex scenes..."

"Don't be a prude. I believe you are blushing."

"Back home we call this soft porn."

"But that is what happened!"

"So why did you jump out the window is if was so great?"

"Well, I don't like to be pitied" Will said, surly.

"Then don't write about her."

Will muttered something as he bent down the typewriter.

"What is it, this time?"

"You can't tell Great Art from a hole in the ground!"

Barnabas laughed at this.

Then the laugh died in him. He screamed in pain... but it was not his pain, it was somebody else's...

Victoria!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Vicky screamed "Please, Phillip" she pleaded to Todd.

"Mixed breed" Todd said with scorn "Filthy nigger. I should give you to Haskell. But no, I can do it myself. I have seen him do it."

He cut her, a superficial cut, just to see her blood flow. Later there would be other cuts... he had plenty of time for it...

* * *

Barnabas could feel the distress, the pain. The screams came from so many places...

But Vicky wasn't there...

Where could she be? A scream like hers could only come from this place. It had to be here, in these cellars...

...Even if he found her, could he take her with him?"

From one of the closed doors came quiet sobs. he glided in.

It wasn't Vicky. It was a man, hanging from his wrists and covered in his own blood.

With a shock, he recognized George Brant's face.

"Are you all right?" he asked, stupidly.

"Are you a friend?" the man managed to ask.

"Yes."

"Then kill me. I can't hold on any longer."

Barnabas didn't protest. In this topsy-turvy world, murder was an act of mercy. He went to the man and quickly suffocated him. He sensed for the other man's mind. He felt an awareness of the lack of breath, of pain, then a small explosion in the brain, and one last thought addressed to him "God bless you".

He stood back, He still had not found Vicky.

* * *

"No, Phillip, no, Please" Victoria begged. Then she screamed again.

Blood covered the bed to which she was tied, spread-eagled. and naked. Strips of skin and flesh were strewn all over. On the night table laid three fingers and one ear.

Phillip kept cutting, caught in a frenzy, his hand frozen on the knife.

He didn't see her. He didn't hear her. He had known it would end like this... One day he would treat Vicky like Haskell did his prisoners.

It was the way it was supposed to be. The knife was hungry for Vicky and he was giving her to it.

She had deceived him, tainted him with her impure blood. Ended his career...

Let her pay for it. Let her suffer.

For a brief second he remembered his dream of a Universe of two. it was gone. It was only a dream...

* * *

"Where could she be?" Barnabas hung as mist over the corridor between the cells. He had seen Haskell at work, had to repress his desire to kill him. he had heard the screams, seen the bodies...The place was filled with the suffering he felt from Vicky. She had to be here...

He had stopped twice more to kill those whose suffering had been too great. It was a small thing that did not stop the activity of this evil place. It only slowed him. But when he had looked at those pained eyes he knew that he had to do it.

But where could Vicky be? If not here, where?

He had to think. He had to do what he usually did when trying to locate someone...

He had closed his mind to her, he realized. Shaken by her pain, he had drawn back. Instead of tracing her, he had gone to the logical place for such pain...

Only it wasn't.

He opened his mind to her again.

Pain cut though him as he did it. But now he knew where she was.

* * *

Vicky could not scream anymore. She couldn't struggle against her bindings. She just lay there, unable to do anything more than turn her head and moan each time the blade touched her again.

She would die soon, Phillip realized. And with this realization he felt the knife drop from his hand.

He saw what he had done. He bent over the bloody half-corpse in the bed. Was that Vicky? Was that the woman he loved?

...he had done that...

He did not hear the rustle of wings, he was not aware that Barnabas was there until he spoke.

"Is that Victoria Collins?" Barnabas tried to control his revulsion.

"Yes." Phillip said with a hollow voice. "She...she lied to me."

Barnabas felt like throwing up. He had never done so since the curse. But he had never seen such horror. What he had seen in the cells. And Victoria, mutilated by the man she loved... You could only recognize her by the hair.

"She loved you." he accused Phillip.

"She...she lied to me."

"Look into my eyes" Barnabas commanded him.

Phillip obeyed. His eyes were dead...

Vicky moaned, and Barnabas realized with horror that she was still alive.

"Take your knife." he told Phillip.

Phillip took it, still staring with dead eyes.

"Cut her throat and be done with it."

One flick of the knife, and Victoria was out of her pain.

"Good. Now look at me again and tell me all about it."

Phillip did, omitting nothing. he had no will, no desire to resist.

"She loved you." Barnabas said when Phillip had finished "I warned her about you, but she would not believe me. She trusted you. She lived in a fool's paradise." he shook his head sadly "Why should she suffer and not you? You deserve it more than she."

He controlled his desire to tear Phillip apart with his bare hands. No, not this way. He looked into Phillip's eyes.

"You made love to her. You took your pleasure with her. It was lust that led you to this."

Phillip took the knife again. His eyes were lost in Barnabas'. Barnabas watched impassively as Phillip castrated himself, and then kept cutting upwards, with deeper and deeper cuts.

"Keep cutting until you die of it." he commanded him.

Barnabas stepped back. There was blood all over the room, slowly coagulating. He hope none of it had splattered on him. He felt no desire for it, only revulsion...The blood was tainted with evil, with screams and suffering...

* * *

"This is Chris Collins' doing" Quentin said bleakly when Barnabas told him about Phillip and Victoria "He got rid of Todd because Todd was too slow for him."

"We are in danger" Roxanne said softly.

"What can we do?" Barnabas asked.

Quentin sighed. It was only a matter of time before they came to arrest him. He wanted Barnabas gone for what he needed to do. Fortunately the room would change this night.

"I have a few cards to play. I can try to get a decent replacement for Todd. There are those in the Party who listen to me."

"Will they work.?"

"They might. Barnabas, will you do something for me? Will you take Edmund to your world? I would be less hampered if I don't have to worry about his safety."

"Why don't you all come with me?

"We can't. We have to try. And it might well be that when you come back we will be safe again. But still I'd rather that Edmund not be in the line of fire."

Barnabas turned to Roxanne "And you?"

"I must stay, too."

He moved to her. "I can't leave you behind."

"You have to. But come back for me."

"You can take Buffy with you." Quentin offered. "This way Edmund will be less alone"

* * *

Buffy held a sleepy Edmund. She would be safe now. Haskell could not touch her now.

Yet she could not keep from shivering as she watched the set face of Barnabas Collins. She chided herself for it. He was taking her to safety, and that was all that mattered.

Barnabas held Roxanne in his arms. "You can still come with me"

"I told you I can't. Quentin needs me."

"Then, I'll stay too."

"Barnabas." she shook her head, saddened. "You can't ask Buffy and Edmund to find a place to stay, all by themselves, in the middle of the night."

"I want to help you both."

"You can help Quentin best by keeping his son safe." she embraced him, trying to control her bitterness over what she was losing. "Come back for me later, if you want."

She knew that by the time he came back all would be over. She would go to Dr. Blair, make the transition, then wait until they came to arrest her, run to Widow's Hill and jump. There she would have saved some of her won blood to throw on the rocks, and also leave scraps of her dress... and then she would be home free.

She ran her hands over Barnabas's face Why? Why couldn't she go with him? He loved her more than Quentin ever did. More than Quentin ever could. Why was she deceiving him for Quentin's sake?

But if she knew the failings of Quentin as a man, she could not deny his ideals. Her ideals. She would not deny what mattered most to her.

Yet, it could have been so easy to go with Barnabas...

"Barnabas" she whispered "did you feed tonight?"

"No. I was going to when this happened."

"Take it from me. For good luck."

"As a going away present" he said sadly.

"I want you to take a taste of me with you." she needed the fresh wounds for Dr. Blair, yes. But she needed this for herself, too.

They stood together, silently. The first time he had taken it from her was etched in his mind... It was the first time that he had felt like a human being in spite of everything... and this last time would also be etched in him.

But it would not be the last time. He would come back to her.

But still something insisted that it was indeed the last time. That Roxanne would never again rest he head on his shoulder, while the blood flowed out of her.

"You have to go" she said quickly "the room will change soon."

With regret he stepped back. He put his arm around Buffy to reassure her, but kept looking straight ahead at Roxanne, at that face looking sadly at him.

Roxanne hoped that the room would change quickly, that he would not see her cry...

The change occurred. The three of them were now standing in a different room.

Knowing that he could not see her now, Roxanne moved to the door, crying.

"Goodbye, my love."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The drawing where Sabrina had held him had vanished from the floor. Not that it would have mattered. Even if he had stood in the exact spot, he would have simply asked Buffy to erase it.

But he saw it as an encouraging sign. ... Of course, Sabrina might decide that he had come back too early, and he might find himself again bound and gagged in this same spot...

But not tonight, at least.

"It isn't far from here" he told Buffy "I'll carry Edmund.

There was wariness in Buffy's eyes. And she was right to be wary. Edmund could fit easily in this world but her... she had the same name and face as Buffy Duncan, who had been murdered by Kira's children.

He was afraid of what might happen when Tammy saw her.

Getting out of Collinwood was easy. Roger had been hanging around the deserted rooms, looking for proof of God knows what conspiracy, but he handled it quickly, hypnotizing him and sending him back to bed. And for once, Roger did not protest.

Buffy gasped. Of course, in her world, Roger Collins was dead...

In Roxanne's world.

What about Phillip and Vicky? Could she accept them, knowing what she did of their counterparts? What about Joe Haskell?

As they went out he realized that Buffy was only wearing a robe. Evidently Quentin thought that either he lived at Collinwood or was welcome there.

He threw his coat over her shoulders, wishing he could do something for her feet, too. Then he took off his coat and wrapped it around Edmund. Edmund protested sleepily and went back to sleep.

Probably drugged... so that he would make no trouble.

Why would Quentin do that? He was sending his son away, not knowing when he would see him again, and he made him sleep through the farewells... He was cold. Roxanne had told him as much,. Unable for form attachment. The wound that Angelique had inflicted on him had never truly healed.

The Old House was dark. Usually there was at least one light waiting for him, but now...

Well, probably Phillip decided it was not necessary now.

It was awkward having to lead Buffy in this way, groping for a candle and matches. And to make it worse, Phillip had moved them so that they were not in their usual places..

Eventually he found the candle and lit it. He turned to face Buffy and gave her the candle "You wait for me here." he said.

He went up in the dark. He did not need the light. He needed to explain something to Phillip, and to Vicky, if she was still there, before they met Buffy.

He knocked at Phillip's door. After a few moments he heard the feet coming towards the door, then stopping.

"It is me" he said. "I just came back."

Phillip opened the door, just a bit "You?"

"Yes. Just back."

Something was moving behind Phillip. Barnabas peeked, curious.

It was Vicky, dressed in the top of the pajamas whose bottoms Phillip was wearing.

"Well..." Barnabas did not know what to say. His memory of the Vicky and Phillip of the other Universe was too fresh...

"We are going to get married" Phillip said, defensively.

Barnabas shook his head, banishing the memory. "It is all right. I was thinking of your counterparts. They were lovers and it ended tragically for them."

"So you don't mind?"

"No. I have to ask a favor of you two. You see, I brought someone with me. You could call her a political refugee. She might very likely be afraid of you two." he smiled ruefully "Where she came from Captain Todd was in charge of the torture chambers, and Vicky was his mistress. So I have to show her that I control you two before she will accept you."

"Sure" Phillip said, while Vicky found a robe and put it on.

"Everything is the way you left it. The cats are quite grown, and are taking care of the vermin at the cellar." she informed him as he bent over Phillip. She then moved on to he.

Having done with both of them, and instructing them to let their wounds show, he led them downstairs to Buffy "I think that she's too big to be your size" he told Vicky "But maybe she's Frances and she can borrow some clothes until she gets some of her own."

Buffy looked scared at seeing them, but recalled what Barnabas had told her, and when she saw the wounds on their throats she began to relax.

"You come with me, honey" Vicky said "I will get beds for you and your son."

"It isn't mine."

"Anyway, I'll get you beds" Vicky decided to wait later for the details.

Barnabas and Phillip sat down.

"So what happened while I was away?"

"Well, Willie will hate me for spoiling the surprise, but Louella is pregnant."

"Pregnant?"

"You area not going to ask me how that happened, I hope."

"No."

"Julia finished treating David. He's completely free of the curse now."

"And Sandy?"

"She interrupted treatment, and is still working with Chris. If they do not have a thing going, they will soon. And now the bad news. Stokes and his wife died in a car accident in Colombia.

Stokes dead... his wife. He had waited so long for Eliot to come back, had so much to talk to him about. But now...

That was his curse, his real curse. To lose all those he cared for, again and again, to make new friends only to stand over their graves. For how much longer would he have Julia? Willie? Phillip? David?...

"Barnabas?" Phillip asked, worried.

"I am all right. Just a bit... with jet lag."

Later, as everyone was asleep, he allowed himself to understand that he was indeed back home, with those he loved.

Except Roxanne...

He had to go back, he could not leave her in that place... not with Sergeant Haskell...

But it would be days before the room changed again, and too many things could happen then...

He would go back for her.

* * *

Buffy had insisted in going out, and Vicky could not stop her. She might look scared, and the gown borrowed from Frances did not fit her as well as it should, but she was determined to see her new world. And frankly, staying all day at the Old House was not the best way to spend your time... And she needed to shop for clothes of her own.

She could feel Buffy's hostility. She knew that it was not directed against her but against her counterpart, and she also knew that Buffy was embarrassed by her own hostility.

"This is a nice dress, isn't it?" Vicky showed it to her. "And it should fit you."

Buffy looked at it. Yes, it would certainly do.

Then someone moved towards her.

Joe Haskell came towards them. "I heard that Barnabas came back."

"Yes. He did last night."

Buffy screamed, attacking Joe with her nails, going for his eyes.

"Hey! What are you doing? Stop it!"

He wrestled with her, helped by Vicky "What's the matter with you?" he asked, irritated.

Screaming, Buffy escaped him and ran into the street.

She stopped, sobbing, by the water edge... she had not escaped Haskell, he was there, would always be... this world was too much like her own... Barnabas had lied...

"Miss, you need help?"

Buffy turned her head towards the uniformed man and stiffened.

George Brant spoke soothingly to her. "They are worried about you."

Buffy stared at the man... uniformed man. She ran down to the beach. There was a broken bottle there, and she grabbed it.

"Miss, don't be afraid." George went after her.

"Don't come near me!" she shouted, waving the bottle. "don't"

"Miss..." George tried to protest. He would have to disarm her, and he hoped to do without using his gun. Buffy lacked the training to fight properly with that thing, but her desperation made her dangerous.

He feinted to the right. Buffy went after him, so he moved to the side, caught her arm, and forced her to drop the bottle.

She screamed, in pain and defeat, as he cuffed her hands behind her back... She had failed and now Haskell would have her.

* * *

George Brant's face was looming over him as he woke up.

"George" he said, and he did not sound pleased.

"Don't worry. Sabrina isn't here, and I haven't come to rape you, either." George's voice had more than a hint of bitterness. "but that woman you brought with you is completely crazy. She's in a jail cell, and I want you to give me a good reason why I shouldn't pack her off to Wyncliffe."

"Buffy?"

"She attacked Joe Haskell, and went after me with broken glass."

"Haskell? Doesn't surprise me" he quickly told George about Joe's counterpart.

"I see. What about me?"

"Your uniform. For her a uniform is bad news."

"Yeah, I remember a Russian refugee who hid when the mailman came. Well, what do we do now?"

"When was the last time that Megan fed off you?"

"A couple of days ago."

"So the wounds are still fresh enough. Good, we are going to find out how good an actor you are."

On the way, George began to loosen up. "I had to go with Sabrina. I had to make sure that she did not hurt you, and that was the only way."

"I knew it." Barnabas admitted "But I felt badly that I could not let you know it."

"Anyway, you are back and things are going back to normal. We caught the one who killed Donna. Not only that, but now the shopping center provides safe transportation. Between Frank and me we kept the pressure until we did it. The articles by Oriana helped, too. But we have to admit that your actions provided a very powerful argument."

"So it worked."

"Yes, it did. But please, do not run any more risks like that. And did you have a nice vacation?"

"Didn't I tell you what kind of place it is?"

"Yes, you did. It was stupid of me to ask."

They knew that there was one subject they had not broached, would not broach for a while... But George felt the distance between him and Barnabas, the wariness. Barnabas had bitten Phillip, but for him it was using Megan's wounds.

"It was horrible" Barnabas continued " I never realized how much I take for granted here. Anybody I talked to, it was the same. They knew full well what I was, and they said that I was more human than they were. They envied me, for living without fear of uniforms. Can you understand that? They actually envied me."

"Did I have a counterpart?"

"Yes."

"He was not of the local Gestapo, I hope."

"No, in fact, he had been tortured by them. He begged me to kill him."

"And you did?"

"Yes."

They came to the jail, where Buffy cowered in her cell.

"Let me come in first." Barnabas said.

Buffy moved away from him. "You lied to me."

"I didn't"

"Haskell is here."

"He's not the same Haskell. I explained it to you. And you have nothing to fear from either him or George Brant."

George moved towards the cell, doing his best to act somnambulistic.

Buffy screamed and moved behind Barnabas "Don't let him touch me!"

"Don't worry. He's under my control" he bought George closer and opened his collar "see?"

Buffy looked at the wounds, then her mouth curved in a cruel smile.

"You fixed him good, didn't you? Well done.: she kicked him in the shins.

"That's enough" Barnabas led Buffy away "Let's go home." Barnabas smiled apologetically towards George, knowing that he owed him one.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

He had to go back. Roxanne needed him.

He knew that Iris was mad at him for refusing to see her... Iris was mad at everything lately... but that could wait. Yes, Edmund and Buffy needed him, but between Vicky and Phillip they could manage. Buffy had accepted them at last, even if she sometimes looked at them in strange ways, and she was helping Edmund understand that he could trust them.

He could not leave Roxanne there. Not in a place where death sentences were executed by strangulation with a piano wire, hanging from a meat hook.

He moved into the room. It was different from the last time, when he was forced in by Sabrina... he was alone, without George to give him some earth and wish him good luck.

There was one thing that he had not discussed with George. That confession he had made just a few days before Sabrina got to him. He wondered if he would ever confront George with it... It brought too many unpleasant memories back, and not all of them with his guilt about Dave...

He stepped into the room and waited for it to change.

* * *

Something was wrong. He had barely arrived at the other room in the Parallel Universe that Barnabas felt the sense of dread hanging around.

Collinwood seemed deserted... and it looked like a search had taken place.

Was he too late? Did Roxanne...? He shivered at the thought. To see Roxanne like he had seen Victoria, or those men he had killed in the cells...

He should be able to make contact with her, painful as it might be. The link with her was still fresh...

There was something strange about the link. Not as it should be... But strange or not, it was Roxanne.

And she was not in pain.

There was much sadness in her, but not the screams that Victoria had sent. There was anger, a grim determination...

And she was at the Old House.

He arrived there, just in time to see the uniformed men reach it.

He had to get Roxanne out before they found her.

"Yes." Haskell was explaining. "It is very likely that Collins kept the papers here. And then he put out these stories about this place being haunted."

"Too bad that Quentin Collins himself can't tell us where the papers are." a man commented.

Haskell grumbled. He did not like to be reminded how easily Collins had tricked him with that cyanide pill. And too bad about the girl, Roxanne. Just when they were going to grab her, she had jumped off Widow's Hill. No one survived that drop. And to top it both the housekeeper and the Collins child, Edmund, had disappeared. They were without any leads...

Barnabas moved into the house. He could find Roxanne faster than they could. And if worse came to worse, he could try fighting them off... and then take the escape route that Maggie had once taken, since this house had the same secret passage. He could get Roxanne out that way.

Will's face loomed above him.

"Where's she" Barnabas asked anxiously I have to get her out. They are searching the place."

"Are they?" Will laughed "They don't believe this place is haunted. Want to teach them otherwise?"

The simplicity of the idea was enough to make Barnabas laugh. Yes, between him and Will, they could make them run and never come back. And also he might be able to get his hands on Haskell.

"Look upstairs" Haskell ordered his men.

Will typed furiously, making as much noise as he could. From his corner, Barnabas studied the situation wondering how best to make his entrance.

The men barged into the room, guns in hand.

Will got up, laughing and moved towards them. He came to them and then passed through them.

Among their scrams, Barnabas dissolved into mists and slipped downstairs, letting the ones in the way feel his presence, in a way that made they shiver.

He noticed his portrait on the wall. No, his counterpart's portrait. It would do.

The soldiers upstairs screamed again. Will was certainly having fun.

He drifted in front of the portrait and materialized slowly, making it seem as he was coming out of it.

"Who are you?" He asked in his bests ominous voice.

The man backed off, screaming, but Haskell was made of sterner stuff. He took his gun and shot Barnabas several times.

Barnabas just laughed unpleasantly, moving closer to Haskell. "You do not belong here. None of you belong here." He caught Haskell and lifted him by the scruff of the neck, like kitten, and threw him across the room.

"Get out! All of you!" he screamed, then dematerialized with a laugh.

A chair came flying through the window. Will again.

"It is a trick! A trick!" Haskell hollered, trying to convince himself.

"A trick you say?" Barnabas appeared next to Haskell and put his hands on his throat. "I am not a trick."

"Leave him to me!"

Barnabas turned. It was Quentin, his skin blue, cyanotic, and with an ugly smile on his face.

"He belongs to me." Quentin repeated.

Haskell screamed. It could not be. Quentin was dead...

Quentin's hands closed on Haskell. They went into his flesh as easily as if it was water. But not as painlessly. They searched until they found Haskell's heart and began squeezing it.

"Scream, Haskell" Quentin said. "I want to hear you scream."

Barnabas slid among the men, picking them up, and throwing them around. He moved to Will's side and helped him hurl furniture around.

"I don't need a knife as you do" Quentin said "I don't need fancy tricks. My hands are enough/"

Haskell screamed. And again. And again... and then no more.

Silently Quentin retreated into the wall and vanished. Will also vanished. Taking his cue from them, Barnabas let them men run away screaming, and dematerialized too.

He knew that Roxanne was in the tunnel that came out of the cellar. he went there and found her packing papers.

"Barnabas !" she said, stunned.

"Will and I scared them away. You are safe " then he added., "Quentin was there... He is dead, isn't he?"

"Yes. He took a cyanide pill when they came for him. I escaped " she didn't explain further about her fall from Widow's Hill. It had been painful as she did not had mastered dematerialization properly. Not all of the blood on the rocks had come from when Blair had reopened her wounds.

"Did they get anyone else? Blair?"

"No. They only wanted Quentin, to satisfy Chris. They did not hunt anyone else. Look, we have to move these papers from here."

"Are you sure? After what happened here, this might be a very safe place.

"I know one even safer. But you are right. They can stay here. Close the entrance to the tunnels"

"These are Quentin's papers, aren't then?"

"They should go to Quentin's second in command" Roxanne bit her lip. She was the second in command. But she could not face up to Barnabas.

Unreasoning anger took hold of her. Why couldn't she go with Barnabas? Why should she stay behind and shoulder this burden? Quentin hadn't loved her. Not as Barnabas loved her. Not as she wanted to be loved...She was fanged now. But that would not keep her from happiness with Barnabas... if she could only put all this behind... to go to a place where you didn't wait in fear for the knock on the door at four AM.

"Your coffin is where you left it." she told him "You better go to it, as it is getting close to the dawn"

"Will you be all right?"

"Yes, I will. Go take care of yourself."

She saw him go. Better this way... she could not tell him yet what she had done... what she had become...

There was a decision to make, and she did not want to make it yet.

As she laid herself down on her own coffin, she felt this voice in her...You could have him, you could have a new life... it is not too late for you...

But her duty...

Duty! Duty! What did duty get you? All your life you have been used. Claude, Stokes, Quentin... For the first time someone loves you without wanting to use you. Should you let him go out of blind loyalty to someone who thought of you as a convenience?

But how could she abandon her people? Or Blair? He wanted to leave as much as she did, but he hung on, bearing up with the help of liquor.. and whatever personal faults Quentin had, he was her superior officer. And she was a soldier.

Still, it would be so easy...

* * *

Lord, it did take time to make this place clean and habitable again " Chris laid down exhausted after straightening up as best he could his new property. Did they have to make such a thorough search? They had left a frightful mess behind.

Well, it was almost done. And the rest would not take much longer. The important thing was that Collinwood was now his.

His Collinwood. He finally had it. His great-great-grandfather's portrait was now on the wall. Soon he would have his own portrait painted, to go over the mantelpiece.

Why did he feel so... empty?

No, not empty. Just nervous. The news of what had happened to Haskell had shaken him.

But it was better with Haskell out of the way. He would never be able to trust that crazy completely.

Soon he would marry again. He should not have married Victoria in the first place. A bad investment, that was all. His new wife would be socially impeccable. Tall, delicate, refined...

Too bad that Angelique had been what she was, because she had been the perfect mistress for Collinwood...

It was getting dark...

He sort of missed Victoria. A strange emptiness, a lack of someone to trade insults with.

"I warned you about him, Victoria" he said, mockingly "Did it hurt much? I bet it did. I bet you screamed for a long time."

He poured himself a drink, sipped it.

Getting dark... ominously dark.

He forbade himself to think on those terms. Collinwood was his. Quentin was dead. Edmund disappeared, and if Edmund ever showed up, he would dispose of him. No one would ever hear about Edmund Collins again.

"Welcome to the new master of Collinwood."

He turned, surprised, towards that venomous voice.

Roxanne Drew was there.

But she was dead...

His eyes were caught in hers. Burning, strong eyes that robbed him of his will.

"You will be very useful to us" she said with malice "very useful"

Her lips parted and Chris saw her fangs.

"Please," he begged, knowing it would be useless. "...don't"

She fell on him, biting him cruelly, sucking greedily at his throat.

It was only after he let him go that she was Barnabas standing at a short distance from her.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"He deserves it" She spoke breathlessly to Barnabas "He had Quentin killed. He told Todd about Victoria's black ancestry, and condemned her to death that way..."

Barnabas stared at Roxanne's face, at her fangs. "How?" He asked. "I didn't take that much."

"No, you didn't" she gulped. "The wounds reopened... I was hiding from them... and the strain..."

No, not that. She had to tell the truth.

"No. We planned it. We managed it, Blair and I... I had to do it!" she shouted at him. "I had to take over after Quentin was killed, and I could only be safe if I was dead. I jumped off Widow's Hill in view of them, and they know better than to expect anyone to takes that drop to come back."

"Quentin made you do it?"

He wanted to deny it, deny what she was telling him.

"It was my idea as well as his. I hated using you that way."

"You needed me to bite you once more..."

"Yes."

"And your going to be with me, was that Quentin's idea?"

"I wanted you. I still want you."

"But he didn't complain when you did."

"No." Roxanne admitted. "He didn't"

Chris moaned.

"You didn't put him under your control properly" Barnabas said.

"Probably. I don't have much experience about it. He's the first one I try this " Her cheerful tone sent a shiver down Barnabas' spine... her first one... he tried to forget what his first one had been like.

"You don't mind having to do this?"

"A bit. But not enough to forget what I want."

"And what do you want?"

"The same that Quentin wanted."

It was just too much. Barnabas turned away from her and vanished.

Roxanne saw him go and shrugged "It is over" she said to herself. It had no future, anyway.

She turned to Chris. "I am not done with you." she spoke venomously while she grabbed him. It was hard for her to be careful with all that anger inside her. She needed to remember that she was not to kill him, only bend him to her will. No matter how many times he had deserved death, he was too useful alive.

* * *

How could she have done it? How could she?

She had been lying all the time, from the start. There was only one thing she wanted out of him.

If it had been money or something like that, he could understand. But the thing that she had wanted, that she had schemed to get...

Why? Why would anyone?

Rage and confusion battled in him.

What was he doing in here? He didn't belong. He had never belonged...

She has seemed so fragile, so lovely, when he had seen her in Stokes' laboratory...

It had been ten years since. People change.

But that much?

Anything else, he could have understood... and what she had done to Chris.

...Chris who had caused Quentin's and Victoria's deaths...

If someone did that to a person he loved, how would her react?

...Turned over to the Secret Police...

The stench and pain of those cells came back to him... He remembered Schuyller Rumson, one of the few killings that had never bothered him. What was the difference between Rumson and Chris Collins?

It wasn't Chris Collins. It was her. It was Quentin. They had deceived him as if he had no feelings that could be hurt. They had not even bothered to ask him if he wanted the things they made him do, just drafted him for it... and he had let the do it...

They had made him fall in love with Roxanne again. His life was in order. With all their quarrels, he and Iris had something going. But they had embroiled him in a triangle not of his own making, relieving memories that should have stayed dead, awakening feelings that should have slept until Judgment Day...

He had loved her once... as he had loved Josette once. But with Josette she had been spared this later meeting when the woman he loved tried to hustle him.

There were few people in the streets. All in uniform. Seeing them he felt the hunger in him. The hunger and the anger... the desire to tear into something...

The man below was one of them. He had seen their like in the cells...

He fell on him, covering his mouth and throwing his head back.

He saw the frightened eyes and drank with abandon.

"Stop!"

He looked up to an angry Roxanne.

"What is he to you?"

"You can get all of us in trouble. The way you fed, he may well make the transition. Do you want any of them to have that power? And even if you release him, there is no guarantee that they won't make him remember... Anyone with uniform, if you feed on them, you must kill, break their necks and dump their bodies in the sea, after making sure they cannot rise again. You cannot risk them becoming weapons."

The cold way in which she explained it left him shivering.

"I will finish him off and dispose of the body" she told him "and then we will talk at the Old House. And no more emotional feeding. not if you do not want a lot of corpses hanging from meat hooks in your conscience."

"Wait for me at Collinwood, and we'll talk" She grabbed the weakly protested man, and rushed out with him.

* * *

"At least Chris did some cleaning." Roxanne said "It was a mess when Haskell and his men finished searching it."

"Yes, it seems tidy enough." Barnabas agreed. What could she say about the situation they were in?

"You know that they didn't get Quentin alive" she said to him, solemnly. "Because he had one of these.

She opened the locket around her neck , showing a pill inside.

"It is a cyanide pill. Quentin had one just like it, and he used it."

Barnabas studied the pill.

"I'll tell you a joke" she continued "It is this family. Somebody knocks at their door at four AM. They huddle together in fear., not daring to open it. The knocks continue. Then one of them, braver goes to the door. Then comes back smiling. "Nothing to worry about. The building is on fire."

Barnabas shook his head.

"Have you forgotten already who is it who calls at four AM?"

"No, I haven't, but.."

"Do you know what I am trying to tell you? No, you don't... Barnabas," she spoke gently "I am not like you. I have lived too long in this world. Think of it, when it happened to you, what did you have to look forward to? Marrying the woman you loved and inheriting the family fortune. What did I have to look forward to? A cyanide pill to make sure that Haskell did not touch me."

She stood up and moved to the mantelpiece. "We were living in borrowed time, Quentin and I. We knew that Chris would get his way sooner or later. Quentin could resign himself to death, but not to the idea that what he fought for could be destroyed. That's when you came along. You gave him the means to continue the struggle. And we used it. They caught up with him, but no one else. Our work goes on. And" she tapped her forehead" nothing of importance was lost."

"You sacrificed yourself for him?"

"Not for him. For what he fought for. For freedom. For a return to civilization. You must have heard of such things before. Men and women giving their lives for what they believed in."

"Only their lives... you have given more."

"They would have given more if they had known how."

Barnabas did not know what to answer to that... this world was becoming more strange, more alien by the second...

"I was with him when they came for him. I had already changed.. I saw him bite his pill and turn blue. We had been waiting for them and we talked... as we had never talked before... He talked about you, about Maggie... he was sorry that he could not love me nor Maggie as we deserved. He realized how much Angelique had hurt him, and how he had not wanted to be hurt again. He talked about Edmund... is he all right?"

"Yes. He is. He misses his father and you."

"He better forget us." she said sadly "better that way. He has a full life ahead of himself in your world..." her eyes misted "It must be beautiful, your world."

"You could come with me."

"I can't. I made my choice and I will stay here. Go back to your world and forget me."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

He looked at Roxanne, lying by his side.

It felt strange, making love in Quentin's bed. It still felt awkward... As if Quentin would come back and throw them out, angrily.

But with time it would wear off.

With time... but they didn't have time. The room would change in a couple of days, and he would go away.

...If only he could convince Roxanne to go with him... Or if he were to stay here...

Roxanne studied him. She knew the division in his soul as much as she knew her own. She knew that it had to end, but she did not have the courage for it yet. No, not yet. Maybe when the room changed she would have the courage to do what was right.

If only he could hold her with him forever, he thought. If only she could hold him with her forever, she thought.

They were of two different worlds. They could not be together once the room changed again.

* * *

Time was passing, and he still didn't know what to think, what to do. She had told him of how she had gone to Blair, all of it, and this time it had not hurt so much.

But it still hurt. That was the bottom line. It still hurt... She had explained to him why... she had to carry on her and Quentin's work.

Duty... he had heard the word too many times... he had learned the ugly side of duty... Trask's duty to persecute suspected witches, even when he knew them to be innocent. The duty he owed a superior officer when commanded to interrogate an Indian woman...

But all that ugliness did not deny that there was such a thing as duty, and that Roxanne had to obey it.

But this way? So far?

Had she really wanted to become what she was, now? No, she probably did not. But she had had no other choice.

"You do not understand" she had explained to him heatedly "For many years I lived in a free country. I enjoyed freedom. But that freedom did not come cheap. Many died in the past so that I could enjoy it. So now it's my turn to fight and die so that those in the future can enjoy freedom again ."

He had never had to face such a choice as hers. Maybe that was why he could not understand it... If he had, he would be probably very much the way she was now.

Too little time... to little time. He had to decide and the room would change before he would.

He could step into the room, and soon Roxanne would only be a bitter memory.

Roxanne should not be here...

But where else could she be? She had made that choice for herself. Probably there was no room for him in her. He had been useful to her once, but no more. Nothing that he could she could not do better.

Would he let his disappointment and hurt rob him of this last chance with her? He remembered his feelings for her. They had not changed that much. Even if she herself had changed.

Everything had changed in this crazy place. He had killed three men in an act of mercy, and they all thanked him for it. Blair envied him his humanity. Him... For the first time, having to lie and hide had nothing to do with being a vampire, but with the secret police's paranoia...

A world where the most prized possession was a cyanide pill.

If he had live in such a world as Roxanne had, how long would it be before he gave in?

Not long. He knew himself too well for that. He had a too quick temper, and a too slow judgment. It had been like that for him for too long.

* * *

She was sitting on Quentin's desk, now hers by right.. Chris stood mute behind her. She did not spare him a glance... For Chris it had not been worth it. He had gotten Collinwood, all right, but not on terms that he would have chosen. For how long would he have to serve her this way?

Roxanne felt hunger, but would not give in to it. She did not want to kill Chris, as he was more useful alive, and she knew that she would never be able to use him gently... Better wait and hunt some deer, as she had made clear to Barnabas he must do while he remained with her... Too risky otherwise, specially with a vampire who tended to befriend his sources.

She would see Barnabas for the last time tonight... And she was mourning in advance... Why must it be this way?..

Then Barnabas was with her.

"The room will change soon." that was not what he wanted to say.

"I know" then, impulsively, she added. "I will miss you, I used you... but I love you. I love you even if I have no right to it."

"I know" he admitted " And I love you, too."

They kissed again, desperately, not wanting to part.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" he asked.

"I can't do it. Not even for you."

"I will miss you."

"I will miss you too."

They had come to the changing room. Barnabas had only to step inside now.

"Maybe I could stay" he said in a low voice..

Roxanne stared at him. "Stay?"

Barnabas nodded. Yes, he wanted to stay with her.

"No!" she said angrily "you can't stay. You have to go back home"

"I don't have to."

"You have helped us, but you owe us nothing. It might get dangerous for you."

"Not more than for you."

"Much worse." Roxanne said sadly "You do trust people, more than you should. You befriend those you feed from, and will probably not wonder if they have a secret police connection. You are bucking the odds, staying here."

"Up to now I managed quite well."

"Because you had Quentin to make things easy for you. That is gone. You'd be on your own. And as Quentin said, you are not paranoid enough nor ruthless enough."

"But I want to."

"I know you do." she touched his cheek " and you don't know how much I wish you could stay, but I do not like what would happen to you."

"No worse than what can happen to you."

"I am hard, Barnabas. They made me so. I am ruthless. And if you stay and survive, you'll be that way, too. Now in a few days, but you'll begin to die inside. You'll find that you care less and less." She pressed herself against him. "I love you for being the way you are. I can't allow you to become like me. I don't like myself much these days, and if you become like me, I won't like you much either."

"It won't happen"

"It will." she gulped, fighting her tears back " If you stay, we will regret it. Not today, not tomorrow. But we will. And for the rest of our lives. No, Barnabas. We have to go our separate ways."

"And never see each other again?"

"If...when this is over... if I am still around I will go to you. I promise. I'll have Will leave you messages so that you'll know how I am doing."

Barnabas held her, unwilling to let her go.

"The room will change now" she urged him "get into it."

She disengaged herself and pushed him into it.

Barnabas stepped into the room, looking straight at her. Their eyes locked, and he kept his gaze fixed even as the room changed around him.

Finally Roxanne saw him turn his face away. She saw the tears in his eyes, felt her own.

"I promise that I will go to you." she said "no matter how long it takes, I will go to you."

* * *

Now that Barnabas is back, what will happen with the unfinshed business he left behind? Will Iris reconcile with him? How much George's confession will change their relationship? How about Willie' new baby? What will happen to Edmund and Buffy?

Stay tuned


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